#they got to celebrate each other's birthdays one more time i have to stop reminding myself of this fact

[todayisafridaynight]

now that it’s valentines day here’s a reminder that mine and daigo got to share one last valentine’s (and maybe also white) day together before mine game ends himself

[steveshairychest]

Steve hates February 14th.

It's a constant reminder that he is alone, that no one ever wants to stick around with him long enough to celebrate Valentine's Day. Most of them leave after one night together.

It's also his birthday. The former heartthrob of Hawkins High was born on Valentine's Day, but he can't even get himself a date. Or a birthday party. Every year that they were around, his parents would go out for their annual Valentine's Day dinner and leave Steve to celebrate his birthday on his own. He stopped associating the day with his birthday by the time he was 13.

Now, he spent the day giving out roses and chocolates to all his friends so that they feel special, so that they don't feel as left out and forgotten as he did for his whole life.

Dustin and Mike fake gag when he gives them both a box of their favourite chocolate and Will blushes and stumbles through a thank you while holding his chocolates to his chest. He got Max and Lucas a big box of chocolates to share on their date.

Robin smacks a dramatic wet kiss to his cheek when he gifts her a bunch of sunflowers (her favourite flower), she also slips something into his pocket when no one's looking and whispers, "Happy birthday." He pulls her into a tight hug and thanks her quietly.

Steve spent a lot of time debating what to get Eddie. Their friendship felt like something more, but neither of them has put a label on what the hell they are to each other, so he decides to keep it simple. He rocks up to Eddie's new trailer with a box of chocolates under his arm and a small bunch of roses clutched tightly in his hands. He's so fucking nervous he forgets to knock.

After gently knocking, the door is pulled open and Steve nearly stumbles down the steps because Eddie is wearing a fucking suit. An all black three piece suit with his hair tied up. He looks hot. So hot all Steve can do is stare.

Eddie groans and runs a hand down his face, careful not to smudge his eye-liner. "Damn it, Harrington. You're not supposed to be here." He sounded... disappointed.

Steve takes in Eddie's outfit again and the pieces slowly start to come together in his mind. How could he be so stupid? "Shit, sorry, Eds. Are you on a date with someone? Nevermind. I don't want to know. I'll just, uh, go. Sorry to interrupt." He turns away as quick as possible and hurries down the few steps.

He should have known. Eddie doesn't want to spend Valentine's Day with him. They're just friends. God, he's so stupid.

A hand gently grabs his arm and stops his hurried retreat. "Steve, wait." Eddie stands in front of him, his heeled dress shoes making him slightly taller than Steve. "I don't have a date with anyone."

Steve finds that hard to believe. He's in a suit for fuck sake. He's even brushed his hair and styled it so nicely. He's lying to make Steve feel better. "Whatever, Eds. I really don't care– "

Eddie surprises him in that moment. He reaches out and holds Steve's face so, so gently in his hands. Steve doesn't know what to do, he's frozen in shock and unable to look away from Eddie, who's standing so close now. He brushes a thumb gently across Steve's flushed cheek. "Steve, I don't have a date because I was on my way to your place. To ask you."

"Ask me? On a date?" Steve is struggling to wrap his head around the situation. Having Eddie so close is causing all coherent thoughts in his head to disintegrate. All he can focus on is the smell of Eddie's cologne and the cool sting of his rings on his skin and the slight shine on his lips because, fuck, he's wearing lip gloss.

Eddie laughs and steps even closer, their noses almost brushing as he invades Steve's space. "I've been wanting to ask you out for weeks, Stevie. I thought today would be the best day. I even bought you a birthday present."

Steve wants to cry. He wants to cry and laugh and kiss Eddie Munson until he can't breathe. "How do you know it's my birthday?" Dustin doesn't even know it's his birthday. Hell, he's pretty sure his own parents don't know it's his birthday.

Eddie sighs and rests his forehead against Steve's, the intimate action steals Steve's breath away. He's too nervous to move, to even breathe. They've never been this close before. Eddie closes his eyes and just breathes for a moment before answering Steve's question. "Dude, I've been madly in love with you for an entire year. It'd be pretty shitty if I didn't know when your birthday was." He says it so casually, so easily, like he's talking about the weather.

Steve can't even be angry that he called him 'Dude' in the middle of his confession because Eddie is pulling away, his eyes full of worry as he takes in Steve's shocked expression. "Fuck, that was too much. I'm sorry –"

Steve drops the roses and the chocolates, grabs the collar of Eddie's suit, and shuts his rambling up with a kiss.

[wstviewvidal]

breakfast- wanda maximoff x r

pairing: fwb!wanda x r

summary: after another night together, it’s hard to tell if wanda sees something past this agreement with you.

a/n: this is the first thing i’ve written in the longest time so im actually super nervous to even put this out. but y oh well?. if u guys don’t like it literally don’t tell me because i’m sensitive and will cry.

edit: pt 2

minors do not interact

“have you thought about what you want to do yet?” wanda asks, rolling to the other side of the bed to retrieve her phone from her night stand, the blanket slipping enough to show her bare back.

a small groan of frustration escapes your throat as you throw a pillow at her face from right next to her, “can you shut up about a plan? i really don’t see a point in doing anything for my birthday. i mean, the last time we went out, aggie almost sold us out”

wanda has always been a step ahead of you, in every way, shape, and form. when you have girls’ nights with your friend group, she knows exactly what you’ll order, the fact that you drink water right after a soda, how long it’ll take for you to get cold and steal her jacket (that she was never going to use and only brought for you)

maybe that’s the reason you fell for her, maybe that’s the reason you’ve been stuck in this endless cycle of being friends with benefits with her.

wanda scoffs and rolls her eyes, “why not? we used to always have count downs for your birthday when we were younger”

that’s true. when you two were still in college, the month leading up to your birthday would be filled with the two of you texting each other ‘two weeks!’ ‘four days!’ ‘tomorrow!’

with a sigh, you get up from the bed and redress yourself with wanda’s black button down and a pair of her pajama shorts.

wanda watches as you dress, playing with a loose thread on her comforter, admiring how you look in her clothes with a glint in her eyes that you can’t quite place.

or maybe you’re just too scared to think it means more than that.

“i don’t know,” you say with a small defeated sigh as you put your hair in a ponytail, “i think the whole ‘birthday joy and excitement’ wore off over time.”

wanda lets out a soft chuckle, propping herself up on an elbow while looking at you with a small smirk.

“jesus, you sound like an adult. when did that happen?”

letting out a small exhale of a laugh, “is that what we are?”

wanda smiles softly at you as you notice her chest is littered with small marks and a bite mark on her left collar bone, reminders of last night. the sunlight peeking through the shut curtains illuminates her face and shows off her green irises, the ends of her hair lighter than they were a few months ago.

she gets out of bed and throws on baggy black sweats and an old t-shirt she’s had since she was seventeen.

a small giggle leaves your lips as you see the shirt, the same deftones shirt you’d gifted to her that same birthday.

picking at her ‘just rolled out of bed’ appearance, “looking hot, wands”

wanda looks over at you, smirking as she passes by you to get to the kitchen and giving you two small but firm taps on your left cheek, “it’s what got you into my bed last night, isn’t it?”

a small blush covers your cheeks, your face now feeling hot after wanda’s flirty tease. taking a deep breath and trying to cover it up before you walk out into her apartments kitchen, you murmur to yourself, “jesus christ”

wanda moves skillfully around her kitchen as she cooks a simple breakfast, which she usually hates making since she’s not a breakfast person, but knowing you’ll have a busy day is the only reason she’s putting herself through the hassle.

“you know,” she begins with her back facing you as she plates the food, “celebrating you is probably one of the easiest things i’ve ever done”

your heart stops for a second. wanda’s not one to say romantic things like this. is this meant to be romantic? or is this wishful thinking?

“please let us celebrate?” almost in a pleading tone, almost.

sighing softly with a small pout adorning her lips, “if you don’t want a party, at least let me take you out.. just us two”

the memory of the two of you at a party when you two were freshly engaged in this new agreement slowly creeps into your mind.

“you ready, bub?” wanda whispers into the crown of your head, giving you a soft forehead kiss as she cradles the side of your face.

the party’s atmosphere has slowly become one of your worst nightmares: sweaty bodies, terrible mixed drinks, and oddly placed furniture.

“please,” you say softly as you lean into her hold, “i wanna go home, i don’t like it here”

a soft chuckle escapes her lips, she knew you wouldn’t make it two hours at this party, but you needed to go out after being cramped inside during midterm season.

“whatever you want,” she replies with a smile. grabbing your hand softly, she leads you through the crowd towards the front door.

“where are you two lovebirds going?” a familiar voice asks as you make it two feet from the door, agatha.

lovebirds. is that what you two looked like? sure, the topic of putting a label on it hasn’t come up.. but then again, you two never go on dates.

unless you count the weekly rendezvous in wanda’s apartment dates.

“i’m taking her home,” wanda replies, moving you behind her slowly and away from agatha.

agatha smirks, placing her hand on her hip in an almost teasing way, “taking her home, huh?”

wanda gives a pleading look to agatha, silently begging her to keep her silence.

agatha straightens up after rolling her eyes, but not before saying a quick quip about their not-so-secret friends with benefits dynamic.

“you’re no fun,” she mumbles under her breath and walks off.

wanda lets out a sigh of relief and guides you with a hand behind your back to her car.

with a small groan, you sit down and begin eating, avoiding her sentence.

you’re almost afraid of people seeing you like that again— clinging to someone who doesn’t see a future with you, just using you as a layover on the way to their real destination.

“please?”

with a roll of your eyes and a small smile, you reluctantly agree.

wanda’s eyes light up and a huge grin appears on her face, “thank you, bub. i’ll plan a party here for you with just our closest friends and then i’ll take you out the night after.”

bub. she hardly ever calls you that anymore, it’s almost like a blast from the past when it slips her lips.

it feels like your heart is physically aching at the sound of it, a reminder of how much simpler time used to be— before your feelings for her got too complicated.

as you two got older and life happened, it seemed as though the two of you stopped being so flirtatious and just saw each other as what you two had agreed on: friends with benefits.

that wasn’t at all what you wanted. in all honesty, the idea of wanda being romantic with another girl that wasn’t you made you sick to your core, it made your heart clench.

but part of you always had the lingering thought and feeling that wanda wanted something else, someone else.

after all, just because the two of you always found each other in bed often didn’t mean she didn’t date other people and have flings.

“you’re such a sweetheart,” you say softly as you continue with your eyes on your plate.

what you didn’t see was wanda trying to hide a smile and blush behind a fork full of food.

[kooktrash]

make a wish | jeon jungkook [ birthday drabble ]

DRABBLE FOR: ROMANTIC DREAMS but you don’t have to read it, this drabble can stand alone

summary: hours before his birthday, his friends force him to come out for a night of drinks only for him to be mad the entire time that you’re ignoring him. he comes home early worried you might’ve left but what he saw instead made his birthday all the better when the clock strikes midnight.

warnings: smut. birthday sex. jk is at the club but misses oc lol. 3.8k words

The feeling he got anytime he came out for drinks with his friends never changed. It always felt suffocating to him from the crowds of drunk people all against each other to the overly loud music he couldn’t even pay attention to. It was overwhelming, to say the least.He hated the looks he got and the way people tried to talk to him. He hated how loud his friends were and how they felt the need to bring him up to complete strangers like any of it matter. It’s his birthday weekend, you wanted him to celebrate with all of his friends and yet he couldn’t care less about any of that. He was more interested in finding out why you weren’t here tonight and why you weren’t answering your phone.

“Come on man, just one drink and then you’re free to crawl back to Y/n,” Jin joked as he patted the guy on the back, “But we want to hang out with you for your birthday at least once.”

“Y/n’s not answering the phone,” Jungkook warned as he was led to the bar, “So I’m probably just gonna head out.”

“Dude, Y/n’s not a kid, you don’t have to watch her every five seconds,” Namjoon asked, “Don’t get me wrong, wanting to spend time with your girlfriend is the bare minimum but don’t you think you go overboard sometimes? It would not kill you to be away from her for one night.”

Jungkook didn’t say anything, his gaze hardened as he eyed his friend closely. Namjoon just shrugged despite how blunt he sounded and that only seemed to annoy Jungkook more. Who was he to say that?

Jungkook does not go overboard, alright?

He trusts you… of course he does… but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t still think about you leaving him. Something in his gut tells him that if you ever try to break up with him you won’t tell him, you’ll just leave and he’ll have no clue where you went.

He thinks you’ve finally grown to love him almost as much as he loves you but he just can’t get over the amount of times you told him you were done. The amount of times he’s had to remind you you’re not going anywhere and neither is he.

He’s gotten better too, he no longer has cameras set up and maybe that’s why he always feels so anxious when you don’t answer. All he’s got is your location so he knows you’re at home, so why won’t you answer his texts?

“Kook?” Namjoon called out to him as he stood at the bar as if he hadn’t just yelled at him, “What do you want to drink?”

“Jungkook?”

He yelled at his friend to get him anything, hearing the call of his name but not bothering to turn and acknowledge it. A small poke on his arm made him take a deep breath and turn to whoever was trying to catch his attention.

“It is you,” She said softly, “Oh my god, it’s been so long. W-y-you just stopped talking to me.”

“Do I know you?” Jungkook looked down unimportant. He actually did have a small recollection of her. They met over a year ago and hooked up a couple times but that was it. He was horny and she was easy.

She looked taken back, “Yeah. You do, asshole.”

He didn’t respond to her, simply glanced down at her angry expression and scoffed as he looked to his friends. They were all busy buying drinks and Jungkook did not care about any of that. He’s been with them since he got off work. They didn’t even let him go home to see you and tell you to go out for drinks. They showed up at the shop, hurried him to close and dragged him to the closest bar. He’s tired of it all. His birthday is tonight and the person he wants to spend it with isn’t answering their damn phone and he’s just starting to get pissed off.

“Okay, here’s yo—“

“I’m leaving,” Jungkook told Namjoon, handing him back the drink, “I’m tired and we’ve been out for hours already. I want to go home.”

Namjoon checked the time biting his lip, he was supposed to stall Jungkook from getting home per your orders and it’s been difficult all night to keep him from running to you. He’s never seen his friend so… in love [?], is that the right word for it? His need to know where you are, why you aren’t talking to him, who you’re with, was intense. Namjoon just knows Jungkook is at his limit with you ignoring him. All he could do was nod his head and give up, “Alright, can you drive?”

Jungkook only had one drink and even then he didn’t finish it before they tried getting him another so he felt fine. He was just bothered that you’ve yet to reach out to him.

He made an attempt to call you, one last time, as he got in his car but like before you didn’t answer and he can feel his patience running extremely thin. Why weren’t you answering him?

The first thing Jungkook noticed when he got back to your shared apartment was how dark it was. Usually [especially now that he’s made the place his own now], the apartment had a dark aura to it. It probably had to do with the mixed decor the two of you had up like his black sketches of skulls and serpents next to your framed photographs of Baby’s Breath and lavender. He’s used to it by now but right now… it’s too quiet…

“Y/n?” Jungkook called out and you could hear the growing annoyed panic in his voice. He dropped his things from work down to the ground without any care. He hasn’t seen you since before he went to the tattoo shop in the morning and now it’s almost midnight and you’re nowhere to be seen.

As Jungkook turned down the hallway, he seemed to freeze. Just below his feet where he hadn’t noticed them before, laid a trail of black rose petals. He followed them with his gaze seeing them disappear under the closed bedroom door where he could see a hue of red lighting inside. With a curious tilt of his head, he walked along the petals, twisting the knob on the door and immediately feeling his heart race.

Your bedroom which had become a concoction of gothic knickknacks and floral patterns, was a deep shade of red. His vinyl played one of his favorite Deftones songs, Mascara, and there you were.

He stopped at the door, eyes taking in the sight around him but all he could do was look down at you surrounded by candles littered across the room and music playing softly to set the mood and suddenly he wasn’t angry anymore. You had been ignoring him all night and that drew him insane but seeing you laying in bed wearing nothing but a black lace lingerie set made him forget all about that anger.

“So this is why you weren’t answering my calls?” Jungkook asked despite feeling giddy inside from all of this. Your lingerie was thin and fitted, it hugged you in all the right places and you looked so inviting with your legs slightly spread open for him, laying in a petal of black roses. You didn’t say anything, only lifted a single finger toward him and motioned for him to move closer.

Your boyfriend was never much for the theatrics, he liked doing it too much to wait, so you weren’t surprised at all when he reached for the back of his black shirt and yanked off over his head exposing his muscles, torso and nipple piercings. His tattooed hands unzipped the front of his black jeans and kicked them off immediately before walking toward the bed with a dark look in his eyes.

“I wanted to surprise you,” you said sitting up a little when he brought a hand to the back of your neck after crawling over your body to kiss you, “But you’re always so impatient.”

“You were ignoring me,” Jungkook whispered against your lips as he sighed softly into the kiss, “I don’t like when you ignore me.”

“So you’re not happy with the surprise?” You asked despite knowing the answer. Jungkook has only just now gotten undressed and you can already see the growing bulge in his Calvin Klein’s. Jungkook looked down at your pliant body laying pretty underneath him, unable to help himself from dragging his index finger over the tip of your nipples that peaked through the sheer fabric, “I love it, just dlike nt ignore my texts again, okay?”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes even as he kissed along your neck lovingly, his teeth softly nipped at the skin until his tongue was running over the marks soothingly. He was already on top of you trying to control the situation and you put a hand on his chest to move him off. His brows furrowed as you began to say up forcing him to do the same, “Why don’t you lay down and let me take the lead for once, yeah?”

“Bab—“ his words died down when your finger tugged at one the bar piercing on his nipple. He looked down watching your finger circle around it teasingly scratching against him and he was folding. Now that Jungkook had relaxed a little, you took the chance to move him to lie on his back, straddling hips as his hands found your waist to hold you there. He set you down directly over his hardening length, letting you slide against it for a moment’s worth of friction. Jungkook always got so easily turned on when it came to you. He could be at work doing a tattoo on someone and suddenly he’ll remember what the two of you did the night before, how he fucked you on the kitchen counter or ate your pushy in the bathtub. Sometimes it didn’t even have to be about sex. He would think about seeing you fresh out the shower or wearing a shirt of his and nothing underneath.

“Y/n,” Jungkook sighed once he felt you lean down for a kiss. It was an open mouth kiss with your tongue pushing into his sloppily the way he liked it, your hands scratching down his ribbed sides feeling every muscle in their path. When you pulled your lips away from his, a line of drool connected your mouths and dribbled down to his chin when you kissed along his jaw. Jungkook’s hands couldn’t sit still, they needed to feel all of you. Your lingerie bottoms were nothing but a lacy thin thong that left little to the imagination but looked good nevertheless. He slid his hands over your butt, big hands pinching and helping any part of you that he could, occasionally making your covered cored grind against his dick. A low moan left his lips when you sucked on his neck leaving a trail of love bites in your wake, moving down to his collarbone and chest.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good,” you said teasingly as you lucked over his abused nipple that you had been tugging on. Jungkook’s breath hitched when you circled it with your tongue, sucking softly and nipping at the metal with your teeth.

“Always,” Jungkook sighed, squirming a bit as you kissed between his abs down toward his navel, fingers already sinking into the hem of his briefs, “You always make me feel good.”

“Mhm,” you hummed in content, sliding yourself off his lap until you sat perfectly between his spread, muscular thighs, “You always make me feel good too, baby.”

It’s true too. He’s your boyfriend for fucks sake, even if you used to resent him for being the way he was then; there’s no point in still feeling that way when you really do love him—whether it be healthy or not is still up for debate.

Jungkook tugged his bottom lip between his teeth, playing with his lip ring as you yanked his briefs down with a bit of force that had him groaning at the toughness. He’s not used to you taking the initiative, maybe you’ve done it once or twice but never dressed like this in a red and black room made for sex.

You looked down at his length, not surprised at all by the sight of it. Jungkook was hard, his dick was thick and flat against his navel, throbbing under your stare. It twitched like it wanted to point upward but he wasn’t there yet. He needed a little more attention still.

You placed your hands on his thighs for support as you leaned forward to be face to face with his cock, pursing your lips like you were gonna kiss it before blowing air. Jungkook had to rest on his elbows to be able to sit up enough to see what you were doing, just barely catching the sight of you reaching further down and flattening your tongue against his balls teasingly until you licked the underside of his cock too. Immediately his arms gave way and he was laying back down on the bed, eyes squeezed shut.

You wrapped a hand around his base, angling his cock to point upward before running your tongue along the side once more like he was a melting ice pop. You could see his lip pulled between his teeth and his eyes screwed shut in anticipation making you smirk. Jungkook always knew how to make you feel good and it was a boost to your ego to know that you too knew what made your boyfriend feel good. As his cock stood straight now, you licked along his tip, circling around the head and feeling him throb in your first when you sucked softly against his slit that produced precum.

“Fuck,” Jungkook groaned as he let his head fall back against rhe pillows with his hands tucked under his neck, hips raising with need to meet your mouth and make you take his cock down your throat. You grinned at the disheveled sight of your boyfriend that was caused by a little teasing and lowered your head starting back down over his balls where you knew he liked to feel your tongue first. Jungkook liked things sloppy, a bit rough and nasty. He loved having his balls played with, feeling your tongue swipe along them, sucking one into your mouth and tugging while fisting his cock. It’s exactly what you did tonight, you paid extra attention to his balls feeling his thighs tighten around you when you began to stroke his dick.

Jungkook was in ecstasy, his cock no longer needed your hand to make him stand straight, he was hard enough to do it on its own and you dug your nails into his thighs when you finally began to take him all into your mouth. A loud moan left his lips at the warm sensation of your spit coating his member, making it easier to slide him into your mouth. He could feel you try and relax your throat all around him and although the wanted to let you take your time, he was so fucking horny. He couldn’t help but buck his hips up, forcing you to take more and more of him at a quicker pace.

You shook your head no, cock in your mouth and a hand flat against his pelvis to hold him down, “Just relax, baby, I got this.”

He huffed impatiently, nodding his head as he tried to calm down, lips parting in surprise when you took him all in one go. If your mouth wasn’t full with his dick, you would’ve been smiling at the way he so easily turned to mush underneath you. You wasted no time in teasing him anymore, bobbing your head up and down while your fist strokes whatever didn’t fit in your mouth. Your other hand was fondling his balls avain, squeezing them, massaging them, rubbing them against each other as you made obscene noises with your throat as you fucked him into your mouth. Jungkook’s hands closed in tight fists over the bed sheets, body caving in with how good your mouth felt on him and he was so damn close, “Fucking hell, baby, fuck.”

You could tell he was close by the way he became restless, thighs clenching and unclenching, chest rising and lowering with jagged and fast paced breath, lips drawn apart with moan after moan and it only made you double your efforts. You got rougher, faster, sloppier.

It got to the point where Jungkook had a closed fist over his eyes trying not to overwhelm himself with how good you were making him feel but it had become too much. He couldn’t take it anymore, “Okay, Y/n, there, I’m gonna cum. Come on, need to feel you—oh fuck, baby.”

His head fall back with a loud moan, spurts of thick cum coating the inside of your mouth so suddenly even you were surprised by the amount. Jungkook’s body writhed on the bed, large muscular body twitching with pleasure as he came down your throat. You gagged at the intensity, pulling your mouth away and watching it coat his own dick in it, still softly jerking him off through his orgasm.

“You okay?” You asked lovingly, stroking him as you looked down at the mess you’ve made of him. Jungkook’s eyes were a deep red that made his gaze look darker under the LED lights. His lips looked swollen and cum was all over his pelvis but he was still rock hard.

“Y/n,” his voice grew hoarse, “Need you to sit on dick, right now.”

You smiled, laughing softly as you looked at the alarm clock on his nightstand. 11:59pm.

“Birthday boy wants to cum in my pussy?” You asked surprisingly. The two of you rarely had sex without a condom but you were on birth control and it was his birthday… your boyfriend deserved this. As crazy as he was, he loved you and you… well, you loved him too or else why would you have stuck around? And right now, you were too turned on to care about the consequences.

Jungkook didn’t have to say anything to have you lining his cock work your wet pussy as you slid the lingerie to the side so it wasn’t in the way. As much as Jungkook loved the way it looked on you, he needed it completely off of you.

His rough fingers tugged at the seams, easily tearing it apart as you pressed his thick head between your folds. You gasped in surprise at how easily he tore threw the fabric, yanking roughly until it was in his hands and on the floor, “Baby… I’m trying to be sexy here.”

“You’re always sexy,” Jungkook said not caring about the lingerie as his hands found your hips, lowering you down his length himself, “But I like you better with nothing on.”

“Mm,” you hummed in acknowledgement, a small moan leaving your lips as this thick head finally made it past your broken hymen making the slide of the rest of his cock that much easier. Your hands fell flat against his chest for support as your feet pushed against the bed to help you raise your hips, his hands guiding you to bring them back down. It started off slowly, you began riding him teasingly only lifting yourself up a little, grinding your hips against his and doing it all over again.

Jungkook was fine with the pace as he took in the sight of your pretty tits in his face and he couldn’t help but move his hands to grope them, thumbs brushing over your nipples as his hips began to thrust up into yours making the slow ducking a little rougher.

“Jungkook,” you moaned softly as his thick length hit that special spot at the top, rubbing against your open folds and pleasuring you so well you almost forgot this was for him and not for you. He was at the point where he didn’t care about who was supposed to be making who feel good. Anything you did to him felt good and without a care in the world he pulled you down to lay on his chest, your face against his neck as he dug his feet into the mattress and began to fuck you from below. Your body bounced against his and with an arm tight around your lower waist and the other groping your ass, he was fully taking control to bring you to your first orgasm of the night.

“Feels good, baby?” He asked in a low whisper into your ear, cock working in and out of your tight pussy. You nodded your head, kissing his neck between moans as your cunt tightened around him, “So good.”

Jungkook took the lead with ease, grinding you against his aching member, so close to release once more. The clock had strikes midnight time ago and his phone was being flooded with birthday messages but he was too busy to care. All he had wanted for his birthday was to spend it with you and his patience had paid off.

He came home to you dressed so fucking sexy for him and with a promise that he could cum inside and that alone was bringing him closer and closer to his second orgasm, not worried about finishing too soon when he knew this wouldn’t be the last round.

Your teeth nipped are his neck, nails scratching along his nipples as you tightened around him once more, “Jun—babe, I can’t… fuck, please.”

“Cum for me, do it baby,” Jungkook urged you on, lifting a hand only to bring it back down hard on your ass hearing you squeal at the slight sting but your walls tightened all the same. His cock was reaching deep into your count every time you took him all in and all it took was one final spank, for your orgasm to hit. You released a loud moan into his ear, hearing him grunt as you clenched around and finally you felt the warmth of his release flood your insides for the first time ever.

He was left breathless, cock coated in both your arousals as you pulled yourself off of him and you both watch his release mixed with yours dribble down your legs, immediately turning him on once more. You looked up at him, smile on your face from how good your boyfriend looked after sex. You checked the time once more, hearing his phone buzz and you ran a soothing hand over his thigh and pulling some stray black petals off of him, “I’m gonna get a bath going, how does that sound, birthday boy?”

Jungkook smirked, “Sounds good.”

“Okay, I’ll be back, why don’t you start responding to everyone,” you told him with a wink. When you left and he looked down at his phone, a small laugh left his lips.

joon:i hope whatever surprise y/n did for u was good bc u were a bitch to keep distracted

joon: happy birthday

joon: don’t have too much fun with your girl

::.

ugh everytime I tell myself I’m tired of romantic dreams Jungkook I just come back 😭anyways little bday drabble on KooK’s bday 🥺HAPPY 26TH BIRTHDAY

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[roosterforme]

The Birthday Blues | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley loves celebrating your birthday. It's his favorite day of the year. But you're almost too upset to celebrate, and you don't seem to want to tell him why.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, smut, swears, mentions of trying to get pregnant

Length: 2800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

"Roo?" you mumbled when you thought you felt your husband touching you. Was it morning? Or were you still asleep? You must be having a dream, because you felt good. No, you felt fucking great.

"Happy birthday, Baby Girl."

You cracked your eyes open, searching for the source of your pleasure, and then you saw that Bradley was nestled between your thighs, eating your pussy.

"Oh!" you gasped. That's why you felt like you were melting into a pool of pleasure. Because you actually were. You watched Bradley's head bob slightly as he licked long, languid stripes along your pussy. The early morning light was turning his messy bedhead hair a pretty copper color, and when you pushed your fingers through it, he kissed your thigh before returning to his task.

It was your birthday. You were thirty one. And you were pretty sure he wasn't going to stop until you came at least one time on his face. So you propped yourself up on one elbow to watch the show.

"Is this my birthday present?" you whispered as Bradley's mustache brushed against your clit.

"Just one of many," he rasped before kissing his way up and down your slit. When you were sufficiently moaning for him, he wrapped those pretty lips around your clit while you played with his hair.

Each little flick of his tongue had you gasping and asking for more. But he knew your body like the back of his hand, and he was drawing this out on purpose. Every time your voice got higher in pitch, he eased back the pressure until you calmed down. And then he started all over again.

"Roo!" you whined, practically riding his face as he held your hips down on the bed. "Let me cum! It's my birthday!"

The devilish look he gave you should have been enough warning, but a minute later, he was fucking you with two fingers and sucking your clit just right. When you felt the prickle of his mustache on your skin, your head tipped back against the pillow, and you felt yourself squeezing his thick fingers as you whined his name until you were laying in a limp, boneless pile. 

Then you felt his warm body weight on your sensitive skin as he kissed your lips. His mustache was wet, and he let you lick his face clean.

"I need to be on base in thirty minutes," he rasped, making no move to leave you or the bed. "Fuck, why didn't we take today off? It's the most important day of the year."

"Because we burned through all of our vacation time for our honeymoon," you reminded him. 

"It was worth it," he whispered next to your ear before he climbed out of bed. You watched Bradley step into his flight suit before he disappeared into the bathroom. You desperately wanted to coax him back to bed, but you also really wanted Bradley to leave for work.

He kissed your lips one more time and said, "Birthday dinner at seven. I'll let Tramp out before I leave. I love you, Baby Girl." 

And once he was gone, you dashed out of bed and into the bathroom. You dug around in the closet for the pregnancy tests you bought yesterday after work. 

"Come on," you whispered, pacing around the bathroom and bedroom after you peed on the sticks. This could potentially be the best birthday present of your life, even better than a birthday morning orgasm from Bradley. 

When your timer went off and you checked the tests, tears of frustration filled your eyes. You tossed the tests into the trash and got dressed for work. 

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

It was actually unfair. Finding yourself on the verge of crying at work on your birthday shouldn't have been happening. And now as you sat in your office, swiping tears away, you realized you were just angry at yourself for taking the pregnancy tests in the first place. 

But you had been trying for two months. And you'd spent the last decade trying your damnedest not to get pregnant. And if you knew there might have been something wrong, you'd have stopped taking birth control months ago. Because you and Bradley had been having very frequent sex for weeks now, and you felt like you were disappointing yourself and him, too.

You closed your computer and carried it down the hallway to your lab where your newest coworker Cat seemed to be having a great day. She was laughing with your other labmates just like you would normally be doing, but you weren't feeling like yourself. So you just kept your head down and got your work done. 

You knew you shouldn't have done it, but you texted Bradley and told him you were simply too busy to make it down to the cafeteria for lunch today.

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3: really? everyone wanted to see you. i wanted to see you...

And then you started crying again. Because the negative pregnancy test was getting to you so much, you were letting Bradley down even more.

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

"I think you should wear the dress you wore on our first date," Bradley crooned next to your ear as he wrapped his arms around you from behind. "You look so good in red."

You wiggled out of his grasp and finished unbuttoning your uniform shirt. As you removed your pins, you said, "Our first date was in the summer. It's too chilly out today."

Now he was looking at you like he was trying to figure out what he had done wrong. "I'll keep you warm. Or you can wear one of my sweatshirts over it if you want to. Or you can wear leggings and your oversized sweater. It's your birthday. And you're perfect. And you're going to look perfect."

But you really weren't perfect. You sighed and nodded at him. "I'll just throw on something casual. You said it doesn't matter what I wear."

You could tell he wanted you to wear that red dress. But you were feeling like punishing yourself for being in a bad mood on your own birthday. And you were bloated. Plus you'd gained a few pounds on the honeymoon and over the holidays. You'd look terrible in that dress right now. But Bradley just nodded his head once as you walked away from him. "Anything is fine, Baby Girl." 

"Great," you muttered, pulling on the leggings and sweater. The car ride was painfully quiet, and as soon as he got on the highway, you knew where he was taking you. You bit your lip to keep the tears at bay.

"Did I piss you off today?" he asked as he parallel parked the Bronco in front of the hot sauce restaurant he'd taken you to on your first date. 

"No," you whispered, closing your eyes against the tears you could once again feel. You were emotional because your period was starting, not because you were pregnant. And that thought was making more tears burn your eyes. 

"Sweetheart, if you're not feeling it, we can go home," he assured you. "I won't be upset. I should have let you pick what you wanted to do today."

"No, it's fine, Roo. I love it here. You did good," you said, trying to infuse your voice with the excitement you usually felt when he surprised you with silly little things. Normally you would have been climbing across the seat to wrap your arms around him, excited that he brought you back here, but instead you climbed out your own door onto the sidewalk. 

"Okay," he whispered a moment later, taking your hand in his larger one and kissing your fingers. "I'll let you order both meals and eat half of each one. I know you love doing that here." Bradley guided you inside as a smile found its way to your lips.

"I do love that," you told him. Soon you and he were sitting side by side in a booth, and he had his arm wrapped around your shoulders. You were pouring out little samples of various hot sauces onto your plate and tasting each one while Bradley sipped a beer. He helped you rank the bottles in order of deliciousness, and then you ate half of your meal and half of his. 

"Let me buy you bottles of your top three draft picks," he joked, taking out his credit card to pay the bill and asking the waiter to add on a few bottles of the hot sauces you liked best.

"Thanks, Roo," you whispered, kissing his cheek. This wasn't so bad. You'd get over this sadness like you had last month. It would just take a few days, and you could blame it on your period. 

Your husband took you by the hand, but instead of leading you back to the Bronco, he crossed the street with you. "Thought we could walk along the pier? For old time's sake?"

You looked up into his eager face in the dim glow of the streetlight. He just wanted to please you, just the same way you always wanted to please him. So you nodded and started out along the pier where you'd spent plenty of time getting to know him and making out with him so many months ago.

When you leaned against the railing and looked out at the dark water beyond, Bradley rested his chin on your shoulder and wrapped his arms around you. "Promised I'd keep you warm," he murmured next to your ear.

You smiled. "You should have put that in your wedding vows."

His soft sigh as he rubbed his hands along the front of your body made you feel a lot better. "I hope you enjoyed your birthday dinner. I wasn't joking, this really is the most important day of the year. My very favorite day of the year. Besides our anniversary."

"I love you even more than I love hot sauce." 

The promise fell from your lips as he chuckled and said, "I hope you don't lose your taste for spicy food when you're pregnant."

The chilly night air started to seep through the fabric of your sweater everywhere that he wasn't touching you. Your face fell into a frown. The dark water no longer looked peaceful. Tears filled your eyes quickly, as if they had been right there at the surface, just waiting for another excuse to drip down your cheeks.

You tried your best to keep it together, but Bradley knew right away that something was wrong. He spun you in his arms until you were facing him. "Please, Baby Girl. Please tell me what's going on. If I made you upset, you need to tell-"

But you just shook your head and pushed him gently away from you, and Bradley looked like you had slapped him across the face. "I'm not pregnant, okay? I'm not. I took a pregnancy test this morning, because my period should have started today."

"Sweetheart, that doesn't matter. We have time-"

"Just stop it, alright?" you asked, wiping away your tears as he reached for you. "Please, just stop talking. Let's go home."

Bradley rubbed his hand along his lips and mustache before he nodded. When he held his hand out for yours, you didn't take it. Rather you just strolled back up the pier toward the street a few steps in front of him, continuously wiping your eyes with the backs of your hands. 

When you reached the Bronco and went to climb in, Bradley jogged up behind you and buckled the seatbelt for you. He didn't try to kiss you, but he did run his thumb along your knuckles as he whispered, "Love you." 

But you pressed your lips together against the pain in your heart instead of responding to him. And then he took you home in silence, not even bothering to choose a playlist to listen to. 

Now you'd upset your husband by telling him the truth about what was bothering you. He probably thought you were insane, losing yourself like this for the second month in a row. Blaming yourself for not being pregnant yet when you knew, deep inside your mind, that you hadn't actually done anything wrong. But you felt the uncontrollable, hateful desire to blame yourself anyway. 

You were still dabbing at your eyes with your sleeves when Bradley pulled into the driveway. He killed the engine and turned to face you, but you were out the door and heading for the front porch before he could get a single word in. After wrestling with your key for a moment, you shoved the door open and nudged Tramp to keep him inside. But when you turned the lamp on, you froze in place.

Your entire house, literally every surface you could see, was filled with yellow flowers. Tulips, roses, daffodils and zinnias. Everywhere. Just like he had done for you last year. You squeezed your eyes shut, but you could feel Bradley's presence behind you. 

After you sucked in a breath, you peeked into the kitchen and saw more flowers along with pink champagne in the ice bucket next to a beautiful confetti cake. Music was playing softly through the small speaker you kept next to the sink, and you recognized the songs as ones from a playlist Bradley made for you when he had been deployed. Your breathing was getting ragged as you sobbed into your hands.

"I'm sorry," Bradley murmured. "I had Nat and Bob bring everything over to surprise you. Give me a couple minutes and I'll get it cleaned up."

"No," you gasped, crying harder. "It's perfect."

You looked up at him through your tears, and just shook your head. He was hesitating to touch you now, and you hated that. And a second later, you were stumbling forward into his arms.

"Don't clean it up," you whispered. "I love it."

You could feel him slowly wrap his arms around you as you buried your face against his chest and sobbed until you couldn't cry any longer. He just held you there while your head throbbed, gently rubbing your back and shoulders until you were done.

As you sucked in a deep breath, he whispered, "You know, you're not alone here, right? You're literally never alone, because I'm here, too."

You swallowed down your guilt and looked up at him. When you nodded he kissed the tip of your nose. 

"I don't want to have to keep telling you every month that you're not the only one trying for a baby. I don't want you to keep thinking that. This is 50/50 here, Baby Girl. You and me."

"I'm sorry."

He kissed you hard on the lips, effectively silencing you before whispering, "You're not allowed to apologize on your birthday."

You smiled up at him, half laughing and half sobbing. "Fine. I won't then."

He pulled you flush against his body and you took his face in your hands as he said, "We've got plenty of time, Sweetheart."

You ran your thumb along his scars. "I just don't want to disappoint you."

"Never," he promised, his voice growing deep and raspy. "You could never."

"But-"

He kissed you hard again. "All you ever do is make my life better. I wouldn't lie to you about that."

Instead of trying to argue with him, you just nodded and let him kiss you until you were smiling. He was right. You had plenty of time to do everything you wanted to do together. 

With Bradley's lips gliding along your forehead, you whispered, "Should we have some cake?"

A few minutes later, you were sitting on the piano bench next to him with Tramp in your arms, and Bradley played and sang Happy Birthday. He kissed you about a million times as he poured two glasses of champagne and sliced into your birthday cake. Then you stood in your kitchen which smelled like all of the floral arrangements, and he wrapped his arms around you from behind once more. You laughed every time he kissed your cheek and opened his mouth for some cake.

"Thanks, Roo," you whispered before you fed him a bite. You'd make sure he had his favorites for his birthday, lemon cake and beer. And maybe with a little luck, in a few months when he turned thirty seven, you would be skipping the beer in favor of something non-alcoholic. 

"I hope you enjoyed the best day of the year," he murmured. And you realized that all the best parts were when you were with your husband, living in the moment instead of worry about what you couldn't control.

Later, when you were ready for bed and snuggling up on his chest, you told him, "You could never disappoint me, either."

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

Once again, this one hurts a little bit. Because this really happens. Don't beat yourself up, BG. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls.

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[thetriumphantpanda]

rainy days | frankie morales

Summary | It has never been your favourite day, but he always knows how to make it better.

Pairing | Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Word Count |

Warnings | Mentions of depression and sadness, negative feelings around birthdays, Frankie makes it all better, two idiots truly in love, allusions to smut but nothing explicit.

Authors Note | To my darling Jo, @undercoverpena - whilst this is my entry to your birthday celebration (I got the colour old rose, apologies for the tenuous link to brief you're about to read), it is also my love letter to you. To the woman you are. To the friend you have become. A love letter to the fact that you can be soft and emotional and have flaws and still be worthy of all the love in the world. Because you are. I have said it many times in recent days, but it is the truth, that I love you unconditionally and I am forever grateful for your friendship and love. I am here for you. I see you. I understand you. And I love you. Happy Birthday darling woman.

He knows it isn’t your favourite day of the year. One that is usually meant to bring joy and happiness and love is instead one that fills you with dread. Worried people would forget, having to force a smile at gifts that show that they really don’t know you at all.

He knows not to push it either. He’s good at that. Knowing the battles to pick and those to leave. You suppose that’s why you love him so much. The way he’s comfortable to sit in your hurt with you, not immediately jumping into fixing it, because it’s been years and you don’t think he could truly unravel everything behind the feelings. But he’s there, with a strong arm around you and a kiss to your forehead. It doesn’t need words, just his presence to say I’m here, I see you and I love you regardless.

It rains, because of course it does, weather to match mood, drowning out any hopes of the walk he’d promised. You distract yourself, cleaning mainly, even though the kitchen counters are spotless and the vacuum has been used more times in the past week than it has in the previous two years since you bought it. Distraction mainly, but now, with nothing to do, you sit. Listen to the fat raindrops and odd rumble of thunder. You reread the same four pages of your book, hopelessly trying to stop checking your phone for missed calls or messages of glad tidings.

The doorbell rings, startling you. Clad in a big jumper, leggings and socks, hair scraped back, you open the door, roar of rain rushing in, to find him standing there. Your man. Your Frankie. He’s soaked to the bone, t-shirt wet and cap dripping, but he’s smiling, both hands behind his back.

“You’ll catch your death, Morales,” you chastise lightly, moving aside for him to step into the warmth of your house, but he makes no effort to move, “Are you coming in?”

It almost makes you laugh when he starts talking, like a scene from the old romcoms you used to watch, but you let him do it anyway. His right hand moves first, a beautiful bouquet of flowers, a dusty rose colour, which he hands to you. They remind you of the paint swatches, the way he’d patiently waited at the store for you to pick it. And then painted eleven swatches on the living room wall until you settled on one. Old rose.

“Hermosa,” he breathes, “Feliz cumpleaños.”

He bends, warm lips to your cheek, finally stepping across the threshold into your home, the place he spends more time in than his own home, his other secret revealed in the shape of a basket, woven, with a telltale red and white gingham poking out.

“Damn the rain,” he says, “and damn this misery, I know we can’t have this outside, but I know you hate eating outside anyway.”

He holds the basket up to you, lets you open the top. It’s full to the brim with food, all of your favourite things from your favourite places you’ve been with him in the past year. Pastries from the coffee shop where you had your first date, fruit from the farmer’s market you visit each Sunday, sandwiches from the shop you always stop at when you visit him at work to make sure he’s eating - it’s all there, in black and white, the moments you’ve shared, tiny, edible pieces of his love and care for you, that’s he’s the first person to ever truly see you, to ever truly know you. It makes your eyes water and your nose sniffle.

You press up on tiptoes and gently slant your lips over his, trying to tell him without words how much this means, how much you truly do love him.

You spread a blanket on the floor, unpack the food and sit for hours, eating and talking and kissing, until it goes dark outside. It still rains as he clears up, lightening now illuminating the sky, it rains as he leads you upstairs and undressed you, and thunder cracks along with your gasps and moans when he buries himself inside you.

It eases late, after he’s woken you in the dead of night with his mouth fused to your cunt. Draped across his chest, silence, save for the two of your breathing, you realise that this is all you need. One man who will do the most for you. One man who will continue, day in and day out, that he truly loves you. Maybe it won’t fix the disdain for your birthday, maybe it won’t fix anything else, but it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that he found you and he loves you.

“Muchas gracias,” you whisper softly against his skin, “Te amo, mi amor.”

“Te amo, querida.”

[katsheadinclouds]

Romance

Javier Peña x f!reader

summary: The night is always easier for Javier when he's with you, even if it means thinking about the possibility of ending up alone. Maybe this time he's done running away from happiness.

warnings: secret relationship, smutty happenings and thoughts, mild angst, smoking, mention of drinking, hopeful ending, no pronouns for reader, no use of y/n, reader is a blank canvas. Not beta read! If I forgot something, please let me know.

word count: 2.4k

notes: The happiest of birthdays to Jo, undercoverpena 💛💛💛 I hope you've had the most amazing time celebrating and I'm wishing you the best on this new trip around the sun. You've written one of my favorite fics ever and to be on this platform and reading the art that you share has been a massive privilege. Thank you for making this fandom feel safe. You gave me this lovely tan color called desert sands as my chosen shade on your birthday bash roulette and my mind went immediately to our man Javier and one of the shirts he wears. I hope you, and anyone else who might read this, enjoy your time with this fic.

dividers by saradika

In the night, Javier stands by the open window. The sounds from the street come in through it, an ambulance and police cars with their sirens blaring make his heart thump uncomfortably in his chest. The cigarette between his fingers smolders bright, the smoke burns in his lungs, yet he relies on it like nothing else could understand him fully.

He’s pouring his stress into it. The already aching muscles irritated from chasing after people who Javier knows are always two steps ahead of them and their efforts to stop the violence. His gun in its holster, unceremoniously laying on the floor, is a reminder of the violence he’s feeding into. What other option does he have? Anything and everything they do, he does, never seems to be enough.

You stir in your sleep. Javier’s tan shirt is resting on your shoulders. It doesn’t cover your bare skin below your hips. Javier pulls another breath of smoke into his lungs, and then one more, while watching your slumber. Your back rises and falls in a slow rhythm, peaceful, far away from the stress and adrenaline you both carry at work every day.

You shouldn’t have asked him to come home with you that one evening a few months ago after a night out at a bar. You shouldn’t have gotten the courage to make a move. You shouldn’t have wrapped your lips around the cigarette he was smoking, still between his fingers, your eyes glued to his when you thanked him for sharing his smoke.

You shouldn’t have touched his thigh under the table with your hand, shown him what you wanted from him. And you certainly shouldn’t have wrapped your lips around him, kneeling on your bedroom floor, your eyes adoring every inch of him. Your hands on him. His hands in your hair, unable to resist your advantages.

You act like nothing ever happens between the two of you outside of work. You wish him and Steve good morning when you see each other in passing. You ask if they got one of the hundreds of memos they receive every day. You wish them a good night at the end of the workday, ready to go home after endless hours in the stuffy office. You’re always around, but you keep your distance.

“I’m being professional,” you said after that hours long fuck fest fueled by stress in the safety of your bedroom. “We’re colleagues. Nothing is going to change.”

Yet everything has changed. Javier comes to visit every night after work when he’s in the city. You open the door for him without questions, you don’t even ask him to come around anymore. It’s an unsaid agreement at this point.

He knocks once, then two times fast, and finishes with one more knock to let you know that it’s him, no one else. You don’t ask who it is, you don’t hesitate to open the door. You just do and let him slip in, your hand always catching his to stop him from escaping from your reach.

The kiss to welcome him in is gentle, a single touch of your lips against his. You offer him a drink, the thick rimmed tumblers always available next to the amber colored whiskey. It’s also an unsaid agreement that he’s there only to have sex. Nothing more. You don’t deny him, you never tell him to stop, you only want more, and you always give more.

“I would let you do whatever you wanted to me. I would let you have me in any way you want,” you said in the afterglow of your release. Your pupils were blown black, and your breath was still out of your reach. Your legs trembled when you tried to get off his lap, off him.

Javier’s hands squeezed your thighs, either to steady you or to keep you deeply seated on his cock for a while longer. It was well past the hours of the early morning; your alarm was going to go off soon. You would curse at him for coming by after midnight, but you would still open the door for him the next time when he got to yours as late, or even later.

“In any way, hm?”

“Whatever you like,” you hugged yourself around him, your knees against his ribs, and he was screwed.

Javier wanted to believe that the words set all his nerve endings on fire because you were still stuffed full of him. That because you spread yourself open for him every time he came around, the words only had a physical meaning.

You absorbed the nausea he had in the pit of his stomach, somehow mixed with the anticipation of having you at the end of the day. You were someone he learned to trust. He could always come to yours no matter what. He could always rely on you to catch him. You always opened the door, and you never denied him access to you.

The offer was too tempting. Javier tipped you on the bed and kept himself lodged inside of you. Your limbs were weak and pliant. You closed your eyes when he ran his hands down your sides, admiring your figure, the curves where his hands fit perfectly on your waist. You emptied your lungs when he pulled out of you, spilling your mixed releases on your sheets.  

You inhaled the heavy air of your bedroom in preparation. One last breath before he’d pin you under himself. Before his lips attached to your sternum.

Tasting you was like coming home. Feeling you squirm under him in anticipation was exciting. Hearing you whine his name was intoxicating. He didn’t need drugs. He had you.

You came on his tongue buried deep in your folds, sucking, playing with you, taking you to the edge over and over until Javier decided when you had had enough. Your thighs were glued to his shoulders, your heels against his shoulder blades. You ground against his mouth, your hands holding onto his hair, pulling him in, and pulling him off you at the same time. Even when the pleasure crossed the line of too much, you still stayed put and lost your breath with another high as his moustache gathered the slick from you like he was saving it for later.

“You shouldn’t say that.” Javier muttered when you got out of the shower. He was sprawled with his legs out on your bed, watching you. You had outrun the moon without a moment of true rest, and the sun had caught up to you, ending the night with its first rays.

Your legs were unstable still and you couldn’t balance on your other foot when you pulled a fresh pair of panties on. You leaned against your vanity and stumbled through dressing yourself.

“I meant it.” When the door closed after you, leaving him to sleep in your bed, the words sunk in. He wasn’t just screwed. He was ruthlessly in over his head.

Javier had already risked it all for desire, but risking opening up was another thing completely. You observed him in ways he wasn’t aware of. You saw him in ways that others didn’t, in the safety of your bed, in his most vulnerable, in his most rageful.

You saw his quietness in the tenderness he showed you. You took it all out of him, one kiss at a time, forcing him to breathe and put the pressure to the side for an hour or few. You took him apart in ways that made him comfortable in his skin, but uncomfortable in ways that you adored him. With your eyes, with your words, with your gentle hands as you undressed him and showed him slowness.

When your hands pulled off his body and left him needing, you gave Javier all the control. He could feel the goosebumps against your heated skin, caress the pebbles of your nipples and hear your shaking inhales and exhales.

His lips on your stomach, on the sensitivity of your inner thighs, smell you dripping against your panties and touch you in the most lewd ways you probably ever had allowed anyone to touch. Your gasps and moans vibrated in his spine and made him painfully hard. Every time, without a question, you edged him without doing it intentionally.

And in the night, Javier could take you slow, take you apart one push of his hips at a time. One moan at a time. One run of your wet lips against his jaw and neck at a time until your kisses would only be little gasps as your high rushed him to reach his release soon after you.  

And he could take you hard, borderline ferociously, your hands trying to hold onto him, your nails scratching against his back until imprints of small half moons would litter his shoulder blades and the back of his neck. He would have them for days, and he would do it again, just to have his skin remember your cries of pleasure that he forced down his own throat to not let you wake up the neighbors.

It was impossible for Javier to stop it. Stop you from wanting him, stop himself from letting you. He watched you act like it didn’t mean anything, like it was just the two of you looking for a release. He heard your promise of this not changing anything over and over again in his head but saw that you had changed in every way possible after letting him in your bed.

“Tell me something about yourself,” you once asked while playing with a curl on his forehead and cracked your own promise into pieces.

“What’s there to tell,” he answered, and you dropped the topic immediately. The disappointment radiated off you in waves, but you hid it in licking your tongue against his, not caring about the friction of his moustache against your upper lip.

His intentions were never cruel, not to you, or to himself. Yet he was like a monster, coming back to you without you asking him to. To himself for letting him knock that pattern on your door.

You sigh in your sleep. Javier stumps the burned cigarette into a bowl and closes the window. Your naked leg is warm with his fingers gliding up against it, the back of your knee still damp from staying with your cheek pressed against the mattress, available for him on your knees for as long as he wanted.

He tilts his head the higher his hand rises. Your skin bursts with shivers when his fingers caress the roundness of your thigh and dips between them. He drags his hand against the crease under your ass, the meatiness of the muscle as his hand continues its exploration of your body, the curve of your hip, and under his shirt.

It’s easy to peel off you. Javier’s sweat still clings to it from the day. Your sweat clings to it from the night. He’s not sure when you had put it on. He only woke up to see you covered in it. He reveals the softness of your stomach, the shape of your waist, the underside of your breast. He draws a line with his thumb there.

Your eyes are open, watching him. Your face is half crumbled against your pillow, the worn out linen of your pillowcase. You’re somewhere between dream and wakefulness.

“Come back to sleep,” you whisper, your throat thick with sleep and the remnants of him. Javier moves the shirt off your shoulder to press his lips there. You sigh, relax against his mouth and move enough to give him space to follow you to the easiness of rest. Your hand follows the scrapes from your nails that are still fresh and tender. Your cold fingers look for the warmth of his skin, the burn you left there.

“What’s on your mind?” You ask, already slipping away from him in his arms. You’re pulling him under with you, the sleep in your scent intoxicating. You lean in a little closer until you’re glued against him. Javier would want to push you away if you knew what he was thinking.

The hope of a future. He has it in his arms.

It would be the easier choice to let you go. When this is all over, when this terror is done, it would be easiest to end this. You don’t deserve the pain he has convinced he always causes.

Yet underneath there’s a promise of the other side. He’d take you out. He wouldn’t let this relationship stay hidden inside the four walls of your bedroom anymore. His imagination runs rampant with the images of himself in public with you.

To see you smile under the sun, with your hand in his with people around. Your voice in his ear when you tell him about everything and nothing, not just you sighing out his name in the dead of night. He would’ve never guessed ending up in Colombia also meant meeting you. Meeting the possibility of a next day that isn’t full of violence and loneliness.  

“You,” Javier breathes into your hair. The slow rhythm under his palm against your ribcage is proof enough that you’re not listening.

He would tell you who he is eventually. He’ll answer who he was before all this, before you stepped into his life and turned it upside down. He’ll let you see him in daylight, not only in the moonlight that smooths out all the edges, regrets and flaws. He’ll let you in on the good and the ugly, the person he, too, sometimes wants to turn his back to.

He’ll tell you about how he grew up too quick, too sorrowful, missing the family he didn’t have anymore. It’s just him, his dad and the house he once called home. Now it’s filled with stories he cherishes in the silence of his own memory.

Javier will forgive himself eventually. For thinking the worst of himself, for needing you to get away from him. He’ll keep on pretending though, with you, that nothing has changed. And this is just a mutual contract of desire.

“I want you to know,” he says into the glowing orange of your bedroom without any sound, the move of his mouth registering in the muscles of his face. He lets the weight of your body drag him over the border of sleep, melt against you and taste the sweetness of bliss.

[chuuyasheaven]

“Please, baby, one more time..”

Notes: Sorry for the delay, but here's the fic! I decided to make it a surprise and want you to guess which one i used from these prompts!

TW: sub!Dazai, dom!afab!Reader, semi-public sex, petnames, (barely any) praising kink, Reader has a tongue piercing, teasing?, poor grammar, cringe, lazy & short probably, blow jobs, ooc!Dazai, etc.

You didn't expect this at all.

Being locked up with him in the agency's closet, on his birthday specifically, just because he couldn't wait.

You were typing in reports earlier, thinking about how you were gonna 'celebrate' his birthday.

Taking a sip from your coffee and looking at the screen to prevent yourself to make any mistakes.

But Dazai on the other hand was getting impatient each minute.

What do you mean he has to wait for work to finish?! He couldn't, he needed you so bad..

So he came up with a silly plan!

He just walked out of the room and said he was getting something, when in reality he was hiding in the storage closet.

The only thing left to do is wait for his target, you. And just when it almost took to long, you arrived.

Not expecting anything, you got pulled in, only to find your needy boyfriend.

“What was that for?”, you asked him.

“I want you, so bad..”, “Well, we can't do it here, Dazai. Last time we almost got caught, remember?”, you reminded him, even though you wanted to.

“Please, 'donna, one more time..”, he begged, “I need it, it's impossible for me to continue like this..”, now he just started to sound pathetic, but it's still his birthday. “Fine, just this once,”, you sighed, giving into Dazai’s pleas.

You then kneeled down, having eye contact with his hard-on. Unbuckling his belt and removing his boxers, you could see how hard he was. At this point, Dazai was leaking precum now.

Before you started though, you gave Dazai one warning to stay quiet. “And try not to be too loud, darling. Please, be good and quiet, alright?”, you whispered, Dazai nodded.

First you gave it some kitten licks, then you took the tip in your mouth, Dazai slowly was losing his mind when you took everything in your mouth.

You swirled your tongue around his needy cock and sucked it almost too perfectly. And your tongue piercing against his sensitive tip? Heaven, truly. He was fighting back those moans. Now, how do you expect him to stay quiet when your sucking the life out of him?

Continuing, you heard the first whimper coming from him, it wasn’t loud so you let it slide.

Dazai could feel his orgasm nearing, and he let a few whimpers and even low moans out, even though you told him not to!

“Dazai, I told you, be quiet. We’re in public, y’know? I might as well stop then..”, “No, p-please don’t stop, I’ll stay quiet, I need you continue..”, Dazai almost immediately begged for you.

Really cute, but still, you guys needed to hurry up before anyone noticed.

Dazai really didn’t live up to that promise, but he really tried! Finally, he came inside of your mouth.

You got up and kissed him, smirking slightly. “You did good, sweetheart, but we have to get back now..”, Dazai frowned at this statement.

“— But don’t worry, as soon as we get home, we will do it as long and you can be as loud as you need to be, baby.”

EAT UP, Y’ALL !!

[heller-castiel]

🥳🥳It’s my birthday!🥳🥳

celebrate by reading some of my old fics

Bobby Day - Sam and Dean don’t have a mom to celebrate on Mother’s Day - they just have a Bobby.

This’ll Be The Day That I Die - “They had this song, before they got married, that they loved. Cheek to Cheek, you know? And they’d look so damn sad when it’d play on the record, even though he asked her to marry her to that fuckin’ song. Had to tell Sammy to stop playing that record cause they hated to be reminded of their marriage so much.” Dean swallowed. “Hell, the song feels more like a funeral march than anything else after a childhood of that. Promise me? Promise me we won’t be like that? Together and hating each other for it?”

Castiel took in a mouthful of smoke and lied. “I promise.”

Or: The American Pie (by Don McLean) fic

Holy Palmers’ Bloody Kiss - It’s nice, getting to take care of his family, getting to heal his family. Dean’s always been looking out for everyone else, was raised for it, bred for it even, and he’s made his peace with that. Held his baby brother in his arms and he knew what he was made for, going to sleep in beige hotel rooms stained in dark browns and reds with a baby in one hand and a revolver in the other.

He’s never gotten to offer healing, saving, before. It’s the first time since he was a kid that looking out for family didn’t mean guns and death and revenge.

Goodnight, Moon - Cas shifts in his arms, turning to face Dean, and just as Cas wants to hold him, Dean is ready to be held in return. Their left arms reach across their chests where they are pressed together, and they do not clasp hands but rest the backs of them against each other, and Dean’s right arm falls to rest on Cas’s hip just as Cas’s right falls to Dean’s hip, and together they let their foreheads rest on each other’s.

Or, Cas has insomnia sometimes. Dean brings him back to bed.

You Can Start to Make it Better (Beautiful Beautiful Boy) - Dean goes to bed with Cas on the night Jack's finally ready to reform heaven and give up his Godly powers; but before he does, he pulls Dean into heaven to bring someone back, one last time.

Or: Dean Winchester works through his mommy issues with some heavenly therapy.

if you ran away, just come home - Dean wandered, after. The night that Chuck died, subsumed into Amara, he had silently climbed into his car in the dead of night, walking past Jack's room, past Sam's room.

In his room, Sam laid in his bed with Eileen, and felt the air displace itself around where Dean slipped past in the hallway, instincts attuning him to movement just as they made Dean move soundlessly, without a thought to it. but Dean didn’t think of that. Dean only thought of moving, getting out, going -

Going to something the bunker couldn’t be, anymore. Something he couldn’t ever go to.

But he had to go.

[riewritten]

YOU CAN LOVE ME EVEN MORE TONIGHT

ERWIN SMITH X FEM!READER

TAGS: porn without plot, masturbation, overstimulation, oral sex (m!receiving), creampie, body worship, multiple orgasms, bodily fluids, also my usual referenced noncon where erwin helps you overcome it, then you rewarding him for serving you with reverence, and idk just rie's usual filthy smut i think

WORDS: 2.1k

REMARKS: HAPEE BIRTHDAY ERWIN. to celebrate, this is a smut spoiling him rotten.

Your muscles are tingling, eyes lurking everywhere but him. Erwin senses your worry; hence, he holds your hand in comfort. "You okay? Oh no, you're sweating too much."

"I think it's one of the days again…"

You don't need to expound. Erwin knows well what it is about. You apologetically look at him, guilt riddling your nerves because of something you can't control.

"I wouldn't mind. Stop flashing that guilty look at me." Despite the firm command, his smile is warm and understanding. "What limits do I have in touching you for now? Are you comfortable with me holding your hand at least?"

When you were still new in the relationship, you always cried when awoken with a body that cringes at the thought of physical intimacy. Erwin told you that it wasn't your fault in any way. That healing isn't linear. You messily wept about how afraid you are that this could ruin your relationship as Erwin's fond of the said intimacy. Still, he told you not to undermine his capacity to understand you. It was a strict reminder, perhaps an order, but the way his smile could still be oh-so warm and understanding amidst would always be a wonder. Thanks to that, you eventually got accustomed to it.

"I think the best we could go for now is cheek kisses…? Hehe."

"Sounds great," he goes on to do just that. "What great progress you've made there," then calls your name in a slight tease, "you're now able to pinpoint your limits without crying."

"Yeah, your lectures bore fruit, I'd say.

"Heh, as it should. You're a bit hard-headed, after all."

Erwin returns your honesty by speaking his limits, too. You still lie together in bed at night. Still, when the cuddles unintentionally arouse him, he'd call for a break, albeit in slight guilt. You would nod in consideration, thankful that he is trying his best as much as you are. Then he quips again to commend you for not letting the guilt bawl your eyes out. He is proud, rightfully so, because he is well aware of how much it took you to be that comfortable, how much chaos it took to be this tranquil, and most especially, of unlearning the tendency to be frustrated at something you couldn't control.

Slowly but surely, as weeks passed, you could ground yourself again in your safe space. That space solidifies when Erwin gives you a chaste peck as you wash the dishes. You halt to grab him by the collar, soap staining his clothes along the way, but he doesn't mind at all. After all, he has a more significant concern: you finally kissed him again passionately. After three weeks of holding it in, his lips are on you again; his tongue is savoring your warmth again.

He holds your cheeks tight and hums in arousal, "You sure have a way of surprising me."

"I'm surprised, too. Remember the first time this happened to us, and I couldn't kiss you for two months?"

"Are you sure you're okay now, though?"

You nodded, "Let's try to settle with kisses for now."

"Mhm-hm," he cups your cheeks and kisses your forehead. "Such a strong girl for me."

You're not the only one being strong here, though—that's what you affirmed when you woke up in the middle of the night and noticed Erwin breathing heavily.

His hands are clasped to yours, and you can hear him moan your name repeatedly. At first, you thought he was sick but quickly noticed the synchronized up and down movements marking the blanket. 

Erwin is touching himself.

You're not even hugging each other—it seems like he scooted you away from him before starting the act—all he settled for is holding your hand.

You hurry on top and engulf him in a kiss to inform him of your consciousness. Erwin squirms in surprise, but instead, you order, "Continue touching yourself, my love."

Erwin takes a while to process the situation, then shyly asks, "Are you sure?"

"Mhm-hm, please—" you whisper, then pepper his face with wet kisses. Lips then slide to his ear; you give it a smooth lick before begging, "Let me hear you."

The gesture sent a tremendous jolt over Erwin's body. You know his ears are pretty sensitive, and you only take advantage of it when you really want him to do something.

"Yes—hah—yes, love," he babbles, the jerking of his hand starts to produce a slick noise. Perhaps his pre-lubricated dick helped bring him a blissful release. You continue kissing him while on it; moans escape as you feel him messily biting your lower lip.

"You'd let me taste, wouldn't you?"

"D-do you—ah—do you want to—"

"I wouldn't ask if I don't."

As languid as ever, you slide your hands down below and join his hand in bobbing up and down his dick. He whimpers, and somehow, the sight of your composed, level-headed man whimpering helplessly underneath you exudes blissful shudders. Oh, to be loved by him. To be foolishly and utterly loved by someone like him.

"Just want—oh fuck—just want to make sure." Indeed he did because after your assurance, he grips a fistful of your hair and then guides you down to his protuberance. The gentleness of his hold says a lot about how your moment below him would go. The gentle touches are the least he could do to compensate for how hard he'd claim your mouth afterward. He couldn't control himself. Erwin, who has always been the epitome of control, could not embody such pride when faced with matters concerning your lovely mouth.

Your eyes widen, and tears build up on the tip of your eyes as soon as Erwin arches his back and spurts his cum deep down your throat. And even after he let it all out, he did not let go of your head. He trapped your mouth in his confines, ensuring you wouldn't waste a single drop because that's what you want. Erwin, honestly, would feel a bit shy if not for your persistence and enthusiasm. Anyone would think that pampering him like this, drinking all of him so lovingly, and more would be because you're under him, serving him with all you have.

But, as a matter of fact, Erwin is the one serving you. He likes everything you want to do, everything you want to explore. Hell, once you ask him for a child, he'd spend the whole night cumming inside you until you couldn't anymore and he's all spent and dry—messed up to his very core because that's what you want.

Erwin almost laughed at his thoughts; it was evident by the way he didn't let go of your mouth even after his dick softened. Instead, he bobbed your head up and down his limp cock, pumping every last of his fluid that might be left of him. You deserve it, after all. Earn your hard work. Swallow every drop. Have him by your mouth as earnestly as he would offer his life for you.

A month later, as if to reward him, you prepared a small gift.

"Come here, love," you speak from behind as soon as he enters the room, your back facing him.

Despite the bathrobe clad around your body, Erwin could notice the transparent cloth underneath. He had never seen this attire before. "You bought that?" he quips as he walks nearer, "That's quite a daring attire. Are you planning to get back at me for touching myself while you were sleeping?"

"Tsk, stop talking too much and sit in front of me," you glare, beckoning him to the soft cushion at the bedside.

Erwin senses your nervousness so he asks, "What's the matter?" but when he finally follows your command, his jaw almost drops. "Oh. Oh my word."

The anxiousness becomes even more apparent, quite unfitting for the promiscuous lingerie you were wearing, "Please tell me I don't look weird."

"I—" Erwin looks away with a chuckle. It wrapped your figure so, so well that Erwin couldn't find the words to express it. "Y-you're—"

"I am about to cry," you hitched in a panic, "I knew this was a bad idea!"

"No, no—" Erwin kneels to your level to clarify, only to no avail because he's still too awed to speak. However, with his eyes twinkling, you realize he might've loved it. A bit too much for your good, even. "You did this for me?"

You nodded, confidence slightly rising upon his enthrallment. "You seem so stressed lately so I figured to give you something pleasant to look at." 

"Well, I quickly forgot what that might be." Erwin's fingers slide to the bra strap, linger towards your chest, flick the nipple that can be seen through the material, then watch your reaction—how you close your eyes, bite your lips, and tighten your hand on his wrist to encourage him more. "How gorgeous, your makeup matches well with the garment."

"For you, yes—mhm—just for you."

"Yeah," he chuckles in between, "my lovely, lovely girl, all dolled up for me."

He holds onto your shoulders and pushes you down the bed, then hovers on top with a thrilled look. Apparently, your outfit accentuates more when you're lying on the satin sheets. Did the fashion designers really craft it the way it'd look so pleasing when plastered on the bed? 

His lips follow the traces of your neck, his favorite spot to nibble and mark, and he couldn't help but close his eyes at the lingering scent there. You, indeed, went all the way. The makeup, attire, the perfume. Oh, what did he do that made you prepare this? He must take note of it so he can do it again.

And so he gives you everything. Months of pent-up desire really did make him go all the way as if to reward you for doing the same. Noises fill the room and eventually reek of sex. Erwin didn't stop; he couldn't stop even if he wanted to take a break. The fashion designer must've crafted it the way it'd look so pleasing when the one wearing it looks so ruined from too much love. The lingerie ribbon eventually fell out, and your breasts went along with the bouncing of his cock going in and out, in and out, in and out, until you squirted all over his cock. Even so, he milked you dry. He kept thrusting over and over again, not bothered by his loud moans.

God, again and again, it's rare for Erwin Smith to lose his cool. If this stern man would be exposed as a sucker for his lovely girl, you could be used against him and he'd have no choice but to submit. It's that bad.

"I—ah—huh—" you babble, earning a husky chuckle from your man.

He cups your cheeks to ask why, a few drops of sweat dripping along the way, and oh, on everyday occurrences, you'd deem it disgusting, but tonight you want all of his tied to you. His sweat, his cum, his dick, his smile, his—

"Fuck," Erwin rasps, "you're clenching. Is this intentional, huh? Y'know I'm gonna cum? Want my cum inside?"

"Yes—fuck yes, yes, yes. Inside!"

That was the last straw of Erwin's control. He spoke of incoherent praises, unaware that it couldn't be understood anymore. When he raised your hips and brought your knees atop his shoulders, you huffed loudly and squirted again.

"D-don't pull out. K-keep—hah fuck, it's overstimulating—it inside," you cried. Even if it started to sting a bit, you did nothing but open your legs more and close your eyes to feel him.

"Mhm-hm, my love. Just a few more. Take a few more. You'll be a good lady for me and milk me dry, yeah?"

"I-I will!" you exclaimed, opening your legs wider. When you saw Erwin's eyes tightly closing and his mouth forming the shape of O, the next thing you felt was him spurting his cum inside you.

"Ah, hah, there you go. Fuck, take it—" Erwin thrusts, "fucking, hah—" he thrusts again, "fucking take it. God—" then thrusts for the last time until he drops his heavy body on top of you. You squeaked in surprise (and honestly, in slight pain), but Erwin just laughed and started nibbling again on his favorite spot on your neck.

You supposed the pillow talk is next, and perhaps after a few minutes, he'd be ready to go again—it's always been that way. However, just as you're surprisingly dolled up tonight, Erwin is surprisingly unconscious, too. His breathing is steady again, his heartbeat mellow. Even if you couldn't breathe properly due to his weight, you didn't bother removing yourself from his constraints. 

You giggled, combed his soft blonde hair, heard him unconsciously hum in delight at the sensation, and you drifted to sleep not long after.

TAGLIST: @frenchdyer @watyousayin @collinnmckinley @aeanya @xiaotopia @cadenza-damour @grimistheangerinmystares | STORY SUBSCRIPTION FORM

MORE OF SWEET SUBTLETIES SERIES HERE

[nightfang22]

Get Angry

As a special treat for my friend @p34ch-tr33 who always pulls out my best work! Enjoy!

TW:Angst,smut insinuation,alcohol,18+

A tear runs down my cheek as I blow out the last candle on the cake. 20 candles nearly completely melted, wax mixed with icing, I sat alone in the dark as I waited for him. He should've been here 5 hours ago. Kenny promised this year would be different. He promised. I scroll through my Snapchat just looking at people's stories and watching dog videos. I clicked on Stan's story expecting to see cute photos of Sparky or videos with Wendy. What I saw broke my heart. Stan's story was filled with nothing but videos of a party at Kenny's house. I could see Wendy and Bebe taking shots and Cartman and Heidi making out. Butters was hitting on some poor drunk girl in the corner and Kyle was playing video games. Craig and Tweek were watching Jimmy break dance on a cardboard box in the middle of the room. I choked back a hard sob stuck in my throat but ultimately I failed. Then I remembered what my father told me when I was little: Don't cry, get mad. And when you get mad, get even. I picked myself up and brushed myself off, tossing the ruined cake in the garbage before fixing my makeup. I grabbed my keys and sped off in my car to Kenny's house.

Ever since Kenny's dad got that oil rig job and is never home anymore, Kenny hasn't really been Kenny. We used to celebrate each other's birthdays together all the time when we were kids but he's missed the last couple of years. He always made it up to me in the end but this time he completely forgot and didn't invite me to his party! I'll show him. I pull into Kenny's driveway and get out of my car. I knock on the door but there's no answer. 'Maybe the music is too loud for them to hear anything else?' So I knock again but louder. Stan opens the door looking back over his shoulder laughing at something before turning his head to face me. His eyes widen in shock. "(Y/N), what are you doing here?" He has a glass in his hand that has a golden brown liquid in it. I relieve him of his glass and down it. 'Hm, Kenny's dad's Scotch from the fancy liquor cabinet.' "I just came to say hi to Kenny and to remind him of the date. You know, since he didn't invite me to his little shindig." I said through gritted teeth. Stan is just staring at me dumbfounded before saying, "What? Kenny told us you couldn't make it cause you were sick. Everyone was asking about you." I smile softly and hug him. That makes me feel a teensy bit better. "Thank you, Stan. Where's Kenny?" I ask, my voice now calm and soft. Stan steps aside to let me in and points over to his dad's recliner where Kenny is sat watching Kyle play Nintendo. I give Stan back the empty glass and march over to Kenny. I stand in front of him, blocking his view of Kyle's game. I see his eyes widen for but a moment before I kick him square in the junk. "KENNY MCCORMICK, YOU ARE THE WORST FRIEND AND BIGGEST ASSHOLE I'VE EVER MET AND THAT SAYS SOMETHING CONSIDERING WE'VE KNOWN CARTMAN OUR WHOLE GODDAMN LIVES!" I scream at him in front of everyone. He's not wearing his parka so I have a full view of his face and just how red his cheeks are from embarrassment. The music suddenly stops and the whole room falls silent as everyone has their eyes on us. "NOT ONLY DO YOU THROW A PARTY AND TELL EVERYONE I'M SICK BUT YOU FORGET MY GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKING BIRTHDAY FOR THE THIRD YEAR IN A MOTHERFUCKING ROW, YOU PIECE OF ABSOLUTE DOGSHIT! I HOPE YOU GET TOSSED ONTO A PIKE YOU SON OF A BITCH! I DON'T KNOW ABOUT YOU GUYS BUT I THINK THAT KENNY KABOBS SOUND PRETTY GODDAMN GOOD RIGHT ABOUT NOW!" And I kick him square in the junk one more time. Just for good measure, of course. "Okay everyone, let the party continue! It is my birthday, after all!" I slit my eyes in Kenny's direction when I say the word 'birthday'.

     The music starts up again and everyone goes back to partying like nothing even happened. I walked into the kitchen to pour myself a heavy drink when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I roll my eyes sighing. Spinning around, I say "Kenny, I'm not sorry for kicking you in the balls and I'm especially not sorry for crashing your party, either." But when I spin around I am not met with blonde hair and blue-green eyes. I am met with messy black hair peeking out of a cute blue hat. "I'm not sorry you did either of those things, too. He really deserved it." It's Craig. I look up at his rather tall frame. Craig has towered over me since we were little. "Oh, sorry. I thought you were Kenny." He fakes being wounded in the chest. "Ouch, (Y/N). That bad, huh?" I could only laugh at his cheesy joke and brush his arm as I reply, "Nah, you're way cuter." His cheeks turn bright pink and that's when I notice Kenny watching out of the corner of my eye. I wrap my arms around Craig's neck and pull him in. We start to makeout and he has me pressed up against the wall. I break away only to pull him up the staircase to Kenny's bedroom. I open the door as Craig takes off his shirt. I turn to him as he pins me to the door, shutting it. He pulls my shirt off and unclasps my bra. He moves me to the bed and takes his hat off, placing it gently atop my head. Removing my skirt and undergarments, Craig kisses his way up my legs before he has me pinned beneath him. I never thought that my first time would be like this. As a revenge tactic with someone I didn't love. Especially not with Craig Tucker. He's leaning down to kiss me again when the door slams wide open. Kenny bursts through the door and pulls Craig off of me by the back of his head, slamming him into the wall. I jump up to my elbows. It appears that Craig is rendered unconscious. He's still breathing at least. I can see his chest moving rhythmically. I stare at Kenny as his head turns to me, his breathing hot and heavy. I can see why. He has a raging boner in his jeans. He pulls off his shirt and crawls on top of me. We make very intense and intimate eye contact for a few silent moments. "I'm sorry, (Y/N). I shouldn't have forgotten." I clear my throat. "Or lied to everyone about you being sick. Can you please forgive me?" Kenny gives me his best puppy eyes, the ones that always got me to do whatever he wanted when we were little and even still to this day. "Okay, fine. I'll forgive you." He smiled at me softly kissing me on the lips. "You weren't really about to give away what's mine to Craig, right?" I shake my head while giggling. He chuckles. "Good. Now let me give you your birthday gift." He strips his bottoms and I flip him over. "Let me." I whisper. I get real close to his face before I whisper, "Nice try, asshole." I sit back up and slap him across the face. "You could never have me no matter how bad you want me, McCormick." I spit in his face as I got up, Craig's hat still atop my head. I saunter over to the door taking a final turn to look at Kenny. "You'd just die on me anyways, you fucking flip phone." Those were the last words I ever spoke to Kenny McCormick as I left him laying there confused and sexually frustrated with his cock out in a room with an unconscious Craig.

Word Count:1,358

[1moreff-creator]

Happy Birthday Teruko Tawaki!

It's the protag's turn for a birthday post! You know what that means! Small character analysis, fun facts and songs that remind me of her! Let's celebrate! Just make sure to bring out the fire extinguisher before lighting any candles... actually just keep the extinguisher handy in general :v

-Being the protagonist of the series, we actually know quite a lot about her backstory. Enough to know it's quite sad in general terms. This is because she appears to have supernaturally horrendous luck, which she claims affects her and those around her. She's mentioned several instances of highly unlikely, unlucky situations she gets into constantly. From washing machine explosions, vehicles crashing, theaters being "too flammable" for her, all the way to being stuck in a killing game where she gets betrayed, stabbed, her friends die, etc.

-She's an orphan who's never known her parents. She had a brother who was compassionate, but constantly hurt by her misfortune. That brother got adopted when Teruko was around five, and she's never seen him since.

-She doesn't have an ID, which meant she had to attend schools by stealing uniforms and infiltrating them. She then usually gets caught and repeats the process several times a year. She is also in a lot of medical debt as a result of her constant injuries. Given all of this, she actually prefers living trapped in the killing game, though obviously she'd rather not have people killing each other around her.

CW Suicide

-That said, it seems her luck prevents her from dying. She told Xander that she wouldn't die because she was the Ultimate Lucky Student, and it was implied she's unsuccessfully attempted suicide by hanging.

CW over

-This misfortune has led her to develop a tremendously pessimistic view of the world and her life, believing her fate can't be changed and resigning herself to her bad luck.

-This also extends to her relationships. She tried to be amicable at the beginning of the killing game, but after Xander stabbed her, she decided to stop trusting everyone else. She now carries around her unique weapon, a hunting knife, for self-defense. This is a pretty understandable reaction given everything she's gone through, but it will inevitably go wrong (prediction).

-Her numeral in the David MV is unlucky number 13 (XIII). Go to 1:22:20 on this video for an explanation!

-The secret quote on her page's source code is "It is an equal failing to trust everybody, and to trust no one at all." Probably something she'll say in the final trial, given that this is one of the main messages the series seems to be aiming for.

-The quote on Mai's page attached to Teruko is "Some years ago, she was searching for someone named ‘Teruko Tawaki.’"

...

-Yeah, Teruko's relationship with Mai is one of the most mysterious parts of this series. Given that quote, it's very possible they knew each other several years before the killing game, got separated, and reunited some time before the killing game. After all, Teruko does remember meeting with Mai in the CH 1 Ep 6 dream sequence. If you want to read some of my other opinions on Teruko and Mai, I'll recommend reading the related portion of this post.

-Though adding to that, Teruko and Mai seem to have matching phone charms :D

-There is a lot more to talk about with Teruko, but I'm done for the day :v

Fun facts!

-Her nationality is "legally in question", whatever that means.

-She's left-handed, the only lefty in the cast!

-In kanji, her name is spelt 田脇【た ・ わき】暁子【て る ・ こ】

-She has prosopagnosia, aka face blindness. And fun fact about me, I actually have this too! I may have learnt about it when Teruko was a bit too relatable in that one conversation-

-Her favorite color is red due to "association." Possibly because it's Mai's hair color. Her least favorite color is pitch black because it's unsettling.

-Her hair recently started turning grey, probably from stress. Wild.

-Her favorite ice cream flavor is red bean.

-Her sexuality is unlabeled.

-She smells of dirt, sawdust, and burnt smell.

-Straight from a Q&A, "Her fashion sense diverges from what she’d actually wear. Secretly she wants to wear girly, cute things, but is unable to afford that kind of thing. She likes skirts."

-She likes fresh food, food which can be prepared without endangering herself with knives and stoves.

-Her birthday, January 7th, lands on "distaff day", "I am a mentor day", "old rock day", "bobblehead day"... still don't know how these come about. I think my favorite for this day is "I'm not going to take it anymore day." That's hilariously in character for Teruko xD

Songs!

-Again by Crusher-P

-The Things I Deserve by Ghost & Pals

-God-ish by Pinocchio P

-The Medical Anomaly by RIProducer

-End-World Normopathy by Ghost & Pals

-Scapeg∞at by Ghost & Pals

-Chronic Wasting Disease by RIProducer

-Those Who Carried On by Ghost & Pals

And Happy Birthday! Well, that was fun. Now I have to deal with the meteorite which struck me midway through writing this post! Take care!

(to be clear the meteorite thing is a joke)

[sulumuns-dootah]

2.12. Bael - Favorite memory candle

༺☆༻

⟡ Masterlist ⟡ 

₊˚⊹.* The Yule festival of Hell *.⊹˚₊

    ༺☆༻

The mall was playing holiday music and many demons tried to find gifts for their families and friends, some of them even for humans who they held contracts with. You and Bael were on the same mission. The newly opened candle shop advertised itself as having the most fragrance options. Every possible and impossible smelling candles were supposed to be available for purchase here.

Few days after its opening Bael approached with you with a proposal. The two of you would go into the store and buy each other a candle which reminds you of your favorite memory with the other. The idea excited you for two things: Bael adamantly refused to receive any gift from you so this wouldn't make you feel bad for getting something for everyone but him; and getting to remind yourself of all the things you've experience together.

And now you were here, standing in front of the store. You didn't enter yet because Bael had to take a call from Beelzebub, going over the plans for holiday celebrations. The little time before you got into searching for the perfect candle was actually helpful. There were many memories, that you'd love to have a reminder of in the shape of a candle.

Finally finishing his call, Bael leads you into the store. The shelves are fully stocked with amount of candles, that you can't believe is possible to fit into such small space. It smells nice inside. Like a warm apple and cinnamon pie. Entering further, the smell turns into a gingerbread with sweetness to it, like the smell itself was covered in icing.

Bael leans down to kiss your cheek, “Let's meet at the cash registers in fifteen minutes. If you need more time, just message me.”

“Okay. Good luck searching.” you wish him and the two of you part your ways between the isles.

The store is divided into sections. There are no signs dividing them, but they all do have a different smells to them. It truly seems like they have every possible scent.Walking towards the other side of store than Bael, you even pass by a display claiming to contain body scents of all the kings of hell. The designs on the candles themselves seem to be designed in their style.

As the radio in the store starts playing a song strangely reminiscent of 'All I want for Christmas is you', you find yourself in a section, which you guess is filled with vacation resorts. The area feels as if you're somewhere in public transport and you swear you can even pick up the smell of someone who needs to take a shower.

Continuing along you go through sections which you guess are times of year, holiday specials and weather. Finally you come across a candle which smells like a spring garden at night, reminding you of that one time when Abyssos was once again the victim of Naberius' anger and while the buildings were repaired, you've been living in Hades in Leviathan's castle. Bael came to visit you and the two of you then spent the night in the gardens.

Exiting the isle, you catch a glimpse of Bael as he's talking to one of the assistants. Turning into another isle, you're greeted by the smell of vanilla and cinnamon.

Despite being on a mission for a memory candle, you can't stop yourself from also grabbing few of your favorite scents. You're sure Bael won't mind.

The next section over is a food isle. You quickly look over the names, when one of them catches your eye: Ball at the palace of Envy. 'That's a very specific fragrance' you think to yourself. But then again, it is their advertisement. You smell it and you heart starts beating faster. It smells exactly like your first official date with Bael.

It was Leviathan's birthday and so his servants threw a formal ball for him. All of the kings were invited, including Beelzebub but he, of course, was wandering off somewhere again. Bael, being the replacement king, ended up being invited instead. The invitation came with a +1 so he immediately asked you. Normally he would turn himself into Beel, but because of you, he stayed as himself. You'd then spent the whole night enjoying yourself and the company of your demon partner.

This candle had to go home with you. Looking around yourself, as if someone would try to take it away from you, you walk towards the cash registers. Bael is already there and his choice of candle is already neatly packed away in the brand's paper bag.

“Are all those memories, my queen?” he asks, motioning to the multiple candles in your hands.

“Only one, but the rest smelled so good.” you explain with puppy eyes.

Bael only smirks and pays for all your findings.

Back at your home, you're sitting in your living room and waiting for Bael to finish yet another call with one of the demons of Avisos to make sure everything is arranged properly.

“I do have a confession to make, my queen.” he opens when he's finally sitting on the floor opposite of you.

“Oh?”

“I've bought two candles. One of our memory and one I was hoping we could make our new memory of our first Christmas together.”

“Oh, that sounds amazing! Yes, we'll do that!” you can't contain your happiness.

“I'm glad you like my idea.” he smiles and continues, ”So this is the candle that made me think of you...”

༺☆༻

But wait, this demon also has a gift for you!

"Being the replacement king, I suppose you should be also given a crown. One to not outshine the real king's potential partner though, of course."

[loganofthenorth]

Okay so for my Shera Swap AU, I’m designing the characters in Hero Forge.

The first one I did was Bo, because I put their names on a wheel to decide the order.

Lovely darling Bo

I made him edgier and more Horde-themed.

I couldn’t really do it in Hero Forge but he has a Horde symbol instead of a Heart on his chest.

Don’t worry he’s still a sweetheart even when raised on the side of evil. Like Adora, he’s been raised within the Horde and believes they’re the good guys. (Basically the Horde found him before his Dads did. For convenience I’m assuming his fathers adopted him.) Since the Princess Alliance isn’t as bright and bubbly in this world (with some exceptions such as Scorpia and Sea Hawk) it’s easier for Bo to stay loyal to his friends even after Catra rebels. Catra is framed as a traitor, even by Adora, and Bo doesn’t really witness a lot of what actually plays out. He sort of plays a similar role to the Horde Trio, only he’ll be more active than they are since Adora likes to work with a team more than Catra had.

Bo works a lot with Entrapta (more on her later) in the tech lab. He’s basically her apprentice (and supervisor after Adora gets a higher ranking) and spends most of the orphan’s training time with her. When she gets captured by the Princess Alliance, Bo takes over as the Horde’s tech genius. He’ll probably have an arch where he realizes things aren’t right and play Scorpia’s role of going to the Princess Alliance.

Catra and Bo never got along because Catra and Glimmer turned everything into a competition. Since Bo was loyal to Glimmer, Catra often turned against him by association. I think Catra will have a character arc of working through her co-dependency issues and similar struggles, and part of that arc will involve reflecting on how she treated Bo. She’ll probably reflect about Glimmer too, but not as much since Glimmer started just as many fights as Catra did.

Bo is extremely confused on why Catra is Adora’s closest friend. He’s tried to be patient with her but to no avail. He hasn’t the slightest idea how Adora does it. Well… *had* done it. He’s probably the only one to comfort Adora rather than lecture her or act confused when she’s upset after Catra leaves.

Bo is also the voice of reason in the Best Friend Squad, and often Laudie, Kyle, and Rogelio have to help him talk sense into Adora and Glimmer.

Which reminds me, the Horde Trio will also be in this. They have a sort of awkward friendship with Bo and Glimmer, mostly because Glimmer is too hotheaded for their liking (and favoured by Hordac) and Bo is a huge pushover. Kyle sees Bo as a really close friend. Bo often forgets Kyle’s name and feels really bad for it.

Bo is terrified of Shadow Weaver and has nightmares of her. Glimmer and Catra both tease him for it.

Adora and Bo are both very protective of each other. Glimmer is protective of them too but often gets ahead of herself. Bo and Adora both see each other as their younger sibling. This often starts fights when they say the analogy out loud.

Due to never having birthday parties in the Horde, Bo had a gut feeling that something was missing. He invented the concept of celebrating special occasions by sneaking out at midnight to have a campfire and sing songs they heard from the soldiers. They stopped doing this as teenagers, though, since it became too dangerous and Catra often got the brunt of the punishment.

Anywho, that’s all I have about Bo for now. Next up will be Adora!

[cacoetheswriting]

heyy

can you do a angst with fluffy ending with eddie x reader on reader birthday (but not that he forgot pls 🙏🏻) you can decide the rest

thank you so much!! 💖💖

gosh i am sooooo sorry for only getting this out to you now! it's been sitting in my drafts, half-finished for far too long! again, super sorry for the delay - and i hope you enjoy 🤍

-

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader word count: 2.3k content warnings: talk of breakups / heartbreak (eddie & reader are exes), adult language, use of pet names, mentions of alcohol consumption, - very much unedited - pls let me know if i missed anything!

Birthdays weren’t really your thing.

Celebrating getting older stopped being fun when the gifts turned from colourful toys to cards with generic wishes, and when parties went from having bright bouncy castles to drinking cheap wine alone in a messy apartment at the end of an even messier night. From pure, unfiltered joy, to misery and feeling like your life was slipping through your fingers, fast.

There were a few expectations over the last few years — four lucky birthdays to be exact. And these happy memories came into existence thanks to a certain curly-haired, brown-eyed boy.

Eddie first asked you out a few days before your nineteenth birthday and even though the two of you never really talked prior, there was no denying he was really fucking pretty and you had a big fat silent crush on him for quite some time before that faithful afternoon.

He invited you out for burgers, and in the midst of natural conversation, when you let slip that it was your birthday, Eddie also got you ice-cream, asking the waiter to place a single candle in the colourful sundae.

Till this day, it was the most genuine thing anyone has ever done for you. The most romantic too.

And every birthday that followed, every birthday you spent together with the metalhead was beyond special. He made them special.

From balloons and love notes, to heartfelt gifts, various activities during the day and dinners at his trailer or out in town. He even rallied your friends and threw you parties that no longer ended with loneliness. No year was the same. Eddie made them unique and memorable — which you adored him for wholeheartedly.

Unfortunately, the genuine love you shared was not enough and the relationship came to an unforeseen end.

Eddie had big plans of one day becoming a rockstar, practicing guitar in his free time till his fingers bled, and you were studying day and night, working towards your dream degree. Your lives were heading in completely different directions and there came a point where you only saw each other once every fortnight, while your already irregular phone calls were often cut short.

That was three months ago. A breakup as natural as breathing, yet equally as earth shattering.

Even though it was a mutual decision, the pain was ever present and you cried yourself to sleep for weeks after. Eddie took a piece of you when he left and your whole body was in mourning. It didn’t help that everything in what remained of your life reminded you of him. Physical items like the printed t-shirts in your drawer or the mug he branded as his and you never let anyone else use. A Dio song you’d hear randomly or the diner he took you to on your first date. Then there was the emotional side, the soft glimmer in his eyes you remembered when you closed yours and the sound of his laughter you wished you’d hear again.

Things eventually got easier ‘cause it’s not like you saw Eddie often when you were together. Plus studying for an ungodly amount of hours kept you busy, distracted. And after giving yourself an appropriate time to feel everything, there was honestly no more time for heartbreak.

That is until your birthday rolled around.

When you opened your eyes late morning, you wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole — which in Hawkins was more than likely to happen. The last four birthdays were nothing short of perfect and now…  

The nausea followed shortly after.

Your plan was to stay in bed all day, and it was going quite well since at six o’clock that evening you were glued to the same spot, until Robin barged into your room, Steve close on her heels, with a glass of water and a poorly decorated cake. Their singing gave you a headache, but you were still grateful for their attempt to make this day end on a better note.

“Now, go get your ass dressed,” Robin orders, glancing at Steve for his rehearsed words of encouragement.

He’s wide-eyed at first, nose buried in icing, but quickly nods at Robin’s words and looks in your direction.

“Y-yes, yes! We have an evening of fun planned!” Steve exclaims after swallowing a mouth full of vanilla cake.

Your roommates, however sweet they were trying to be, failed to realise the one place you really didn’t want to spend your birthday was The Hideout, and that’s exactly where they brought you.

The Hideout, presenting its usual lurking charm from the moment you stepped inside, was the one place in Hawkins you knew guaranteed an awkward bump-in with Eddie. Or maybe a needed interaction? Seeing him in his element could possibly bring some sort of closure after three months of no contact… No. No. Seeing him would only bring back the pain you tried real hard to bury.

A stench of old man sweat mixed with spilled booze hits your senses while you hurry closely behind Robin and Steve. In the dim light, your eyes are focused on the floor below, partially because you’re trying not to slip or trip over your own two feet, but mainly ‘cause you’re fearful of catching a glimpse of a certain head of wild brown locks. You only look up when the three of you approach a table closer to the back, away from most of the noise, and are greeted with hugs from Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle. 

Settling yourself on one of the chairs, you exchange pleasantries with the rest of your friends while Steve orders a round of shots for the group. They all raise a toast to your health, their cheers attracting some attention in the process, but you don’t think anything of it, starting to instead feel glad you agreed to this.

“Birthday girl isn’t allowed to pay for her own drinks, got it?” Robin addresses the group and they all nod in unison. You wanna protest, but she swats at you from across the table before the words escape your lips. Her eyes saying that you need this, your eyes saying that you’re grateful she’s your friend. I know, Robin mouths as Jonathan takes everyone’s drink order.

Every shot you take, you chase with a rum and coke. The liquid burns down your throat. Third, fourth, fifth round down. You’re feeling buzzed, happy. Most importantly, no longer thinking of the boy that would normally also be hanging out with this group — blissfully unaware that he was actually watching your every move from the other side of the bar.

Eddie hadn’t initially planned on going out tonight. After a long day of working at the garage, then band practice right after, he really just wanted to smoke and fall asleep. As he got out of the shower however, instead of jumping into bed, he reached for a clean t-shirt. He couldn’t really explain why. It was stupid to think something inside of him was urging him to come to The Hideout tonight. He was wrecked beyond belief, yet his feet carried him here.

Then he heard it. Your name, followed by a mini-eruption of woohoos.

Head snapping in the direction of the sound, Eddie’s gaze found the source of the noise and then scanned the small group until he reached your relaxed frame. Christ, he thought, palms getting clammy. To say you looked gorgeous would be a vast understatement. And to say he didn’t realise just how much he missed you until this very moment would be nothing short of the truth.

Sure, after the breakup, Eddie found it hard to get through the day-to-day. Constantly distracted, thinking about you and second guessing the decision you both made. But then he reminded himself this was for the best, convinced himself that people can have more than one great love in their life, and things got easier.

There were days he hoped he’d accidentally run into you. At the store, out for coffee, or just wandering the streets of Hawkins. No such luck. When he started working at the shop to save some extra cash, he thought maybe you’d come in with your clunk of shit car since he was always telling you to get it looked at, but again, it never happened. 

Three months passed like nothing.

Eddie would’ve never thought that today, your fucking birthday of all days, would be when he saw you next.

Cold beer in hand, he thought about walking up to the table you sat at with your mutual friends. And he was about to, but then you laughed at something Argyle said and the honey-like sound froze him in place. Clearly, you were having a good time. Eddie didn’t want to ruin that, so he opted for watching you like some fucking creep. 

Four beers later, he’s still in the same spot.

Nancy takes over the jukebox duties. Billy Idol’s White Wedding starts to play as she pulls you to your feet, an excited squeal escaping her lips when you don’t protest. Swaying your hips to the music, you feel elated. Even more so when Robin joins in, singing along as Nancy twirls around the two of you. The boys clap, grinning like idiots, and you know you’re going to remember this moment forever, or at least until you unintentionally go over your drink limit and black out.

A smile tugs at the corners of Eddie’s lips as he continues to shamelessly stare at you. Carefree, is the word he’d use now to describe you and in all honesty, he hasn’t seen you like this in a while. Then his smile falters before it really fully appears ‘cause he finds himself wishing he was the reason for your current mood. Was ending things a mistake?

Mid-song, you spin and as you do, your eyes skim the bar, passing a set of curly hair. The air hitches in your throat as you double back. Just to make sure your drunken gaze wasn’t deceiving you, you tell yourself, but the reality is much different. Please be him, please be him, please be him…

When your eyes do lock with his, your tummy burns.

The copious amount of alcohol trifling through your veins right now gives you that extra push you need to start a short strut towards your ex-boyfriend. Someone’s arm is on you, attempting to pull you back slightly, but you don’t pay attention to it. Then you hear Steve say, “let her go, she needs this.”, and you’re free to continue your journey. 

In a trance, gaze glued to Eddie’s chocolate one, you push through the people until you’re leaning against the bar he was sitting at, observing as his features turn from awe into something you couldn’t quite decipher.

“Hey, pretty girl.” Eddie greets nonchalantly, as if no time has passed, as if nothing has changed between the two of you.

So you follow in his footsteps, carefully hoisting yourself up on the stool next to his, bare knee brushing against his denim-clad one. 

“Wanna order me a drink?”

Eddie smirks. “Straight to the point, as always.”

“Well, since it is my birthday, Robin said I’m not allowed to pay for my own poison,” you tell him, shrugging lightly, “So if you have a problem with that, you gotta take it up with her.”

He huffs out a laugh. 

“I’d rather not go against Buckley.” And with that he orders a shot of tequila each.

When the small glasses are in front of you, accompanied by a lime wedge, he takes your hand without asking, then licks between your thumb and index finger, doe-eyes never leaving yours. 

A shiver runs down your spine at the sudden contact and you try to play it cool, but in reality your heart is racing. Though Eddie doesn’t give you time to think about what he’s done with no warning, pouring salt in the spot he’s just salivated. He then hastily repeats the action on his own hand and pushes a shot glass in your direction. 

“Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

The toast is short and sweet. He raises the glass in front of his face as the words escape his lips, licks the salt off his own hand (which you’re a little disappointed in, unsurprisingly already missing the sensation that was his gentle touch), and downs the liquid in one go.

You quickly follow suit, not wanting to seem like he got you all flustered. But as the two of you sit and stare at one another while sucking on the lime wedges for a little longer than normal, you realise he’s just as rattled as you are — good.

“I hate tequila,” Eddie announces, discarding the wedge.

“I don’t mind it,” you say, wiping the corners of your mouth.

His gaze drops slightly, to where your finger presses against your puffy lips, and he bites down on his own rather shamelessly. There is a brief moment of silence in which Eddie thinks back to seconds before, when his tongue caressed your soft skin. He hates himself a little ‘cause he doesn’t wanna mess with your head, but fuck did that feel good. He’d like to do it again, if not more. Is that crazy?

And while you continue to look into his eyes, the butterflies in your stomach are going wild since you know exactly what he’s thinking. The only problem is you don’t know how to tell him because there’s so much else to be said first. Three months of catching up, to be precise, but did exes even do that?

“How about we get out of here?” Eddie offers, voice nothing short of a murmur.

You nod. Of course you nod. You’d go to the end of the world if he’d ask.

Before you know it, Eddie’s hand is on the small of your back, leading you through The Hideout crowd and out the front door. You don’t say goodbye to your friends, you can apologise tomorrow for leaving without a word. Instead, you inhale the fresh air, a wobble in your step as you turn to once again look at your ex-boyfriend.

“Where do you wanna go?”

Eddie throws his arm around your shoulders, pulling you in as close as he possibly can. He tilts his head to meet your gaze and smiles. A genuine smile.

“There’s this diner not far from here,” he answers simply and your heart swells. Then once again, tenfold, as he places a kiss to your crown before whispering in your ear, “Back to where it all started, pretty girl.”.

as always, thank you for reading! pls don't hesitate to reblog & tell me what you think - ily!

eddie munson masterlist | main masterlist

[makeitmingi]

Cause Baby You're My Muse [Chapter 38]

Genre: Romance, Idol!AU, Music, Slight angst

Pairing: Mingi x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Producer!Reader, IdolLyricist!Mingi, IdolProducer!Hongjoong, Idol!Seonghwa, Idol!Yunho, Idol!Wooyoung, Idol!San, Idol!Yeosang, Idol!Jongho, cameo(s) by other celebrities

Summary: You always preferred producing underground, having an unknown face and governed by your own rules. But when you start freelancing for idol groups, you say goodbye to your lone wolf lifestyle as you learn to work with idol producers and lyricists.

Word count: 3.2K

-Small timeskip-

Despite what you told Seonghwa, you didn't go to the authorities, you were just far too busy and you knew that if you went to the police, more people would be involved.

The threatening messages didn't stop, they got more and more explicit but you just couldn't give them any time. You and Mingi haven't seen each other in weeks so maybe the person thought you broke up or something, which is why things haven't really escalated to something more.

"Indigo, are you ready?" Eden dropped by your studio. You turned around, blinking. The blank look on your face showed your confusion.

"The production meeting...?" He raised his eyebrows as he reminded. You turned to the clock on your phone.

"Oh, shoot! I didn't know it was so late already!" You jumped up from your chair, scrambling for your things. You saved your work and grabbed your iPad.

"Calm down, we have time. How long have you been working in here?" He asked.

"Honestly, I have no idea. I lost track of time." You rubbed the back of your neck. You wore your beanie and walked out with him.

"Once you sit down, you just get lost in the process, don't you?" Eden chuckled. You nodded your head in embarrassment. You need to set more noticeable time reminders in the future.

"I'm excited to hear what the time has to propose with the music video and concept outfits. That would be so exciting." You clapped your hands. Everyone was gathering today to hear what the creative production team has to propose.

"CEO Kim will be there?" You asked. Eden nodded to confirm. You buried your face in your hands.

"Why? Why? What's wrong with our CEO?" Eden asked with amusement at your reaction to meeting your big boss.

"I haven't got a reply for him..." You mumbled.

"He's not expecting a reply so quickly, Indigo. Don't worry about it! Your contract with us isn't up anyway. He'll want you to focus on the comeback first." He patted your shoulder as he laughed.

"But what about-"

"Eden hyung! Indigo!" A few voices called, cutting Eden off. Eden didn't finish his sentence, seeing the Ateez boys.

"Indigo! I missed you so much! Did you miss me?!" Wooyoung hugged you tightly, shaking you up and down. You chuckled and hugged him back.

"I did miss you, Woo. I hope you've been well and taking care of yourself." You said, making him grin proudly. He stuck his tongue out at the other members, as if what you said was that you missed him ONLY. Hongjoong plucked him off you but Wooyoung still held your hand to enter the meeting room.

"Hey, your shirt... Looks like the one I bought Mingi for his birthday." Yeosang pointed at your oversized shirt. Mingi choked.

"Yah, yah, Yesoang. Be careful of what you're saying." Yunho covered up his flusteredness with an awkward chuckle. If others have heard it, they would be suspicious.

"Y-Yeah, I got the same shirt..." You lied. You didn't even notice this was Mingi's shirt, you just took it out of your drawer, which is usually a mix of yours and Mingi's clothes from the wash.

"But-"

"It's true, look at Indigo and I. We're wearing the same clothes all the time." Hongjoong sent Yeosang a look to not say anything further.

"That's because you copy me." You scoffed with your arms crossed. Hongjoong just rolled his eyes.

Soon, the remaining meeting attendees entered the big room and took their seats. When the CEO entered with his assistant, everyone stood up to bow to him in greeting. He smiled and waved for everyone to take their seats.

"Let's go through the music video concepts first? Followed by the style concepts. Then we'll go to the producers and finally, finance team with the budgeting." He instructed.

"Yes, boss." Everyone chimed.

"Also, boys, feel free to voice your opinions after each presentation." He said to the 8 Ateez members that were sitting together.

"Thank you, boss." The 8 boys bowed their heads. You turned your iPad on, ready to take notes where necessary. The videography and production team went first.

"Alright, these are the storyboards for the music video." The employee flashed the picture on the screen.

"Ooooooh." You and Ateez had the same reactions. Behind you, Eden laughed, knowing you were amazed by everything in this process.

"Don't laugh at me." You whispered with a pout. Eden still snickered, reaching out to pat your head. You continued to listen to the speaker proposing the location and all the other logistics for the music video shooting. Even if you were not the one in the music video, you felt excitement bubble within you.

Mingi watched you from the other side of the room. He hadn't seen you in weeks. Sure, you've video called and texted but nothing was better than actually holding you. He wanted to just hold you now.

"You're staring." San leaned over to whisper. Mingi blushed, tearing his gaze away from you.

"Sorry. Can't help it." He grumbled softly.

"The location and storyboard looks good. We'll look at booking the film site and accommodation." The CEO nodded in approval.

"These are the outfits for the music video. We will reuse them for some of the comeback promotions. The alternative outfits for other promotional activities are these." The head stylist showed.

"Oh, wow. They're so cool." You could imagine how good the boys would look in all the outfits.

"I'll go through the individual outfit inspirations for each member." She flipped through the slides, going through each member's outfit collection.

"Hongjoong sshi will be in mostly Balmain, sent over from their styling team. Especially for interviews, as we expect questions about you becoming an ambassador with them. Mingi sshi, you will be in Diesel outfits." She pointed out.

"Look at you, hyung. Balmain prince." Wooyoung voiced proudly. Hongjoong shushed him for being disruptive but it was because he was shy from all the attention.

The stylists teams really knew what they were doing, suggesting outfits and styles that brought out the best features of each member.

"More see through shirts for Seonghwa hyung. The fans would want that." Jongho snickered.

"Shut it." Seonghwa glared.

"So with these outfits, there are the hair colours that we are proposing to the members for them to choose." She showed the different options.

"Hmm..." You hummed to yourself softly, deep in thought. You tilted your head, trying to imagine Mingi in all the proposed hair colours for him. To you, Mingi always looked good in whatever he wears. You think he would look good in any of the outfits and hair colours that the stylist team suggested.

"Producer team? You're next." CEO Kim said.

"Go ahead." Eden encouraged you to stand first. You shook your head, you were not ready to present.

"It's okay. Just go, it'll be fine." He whispered. You gulped and slowly shuffled to the front of the room. Taking a deep breath, you cleared your throat and plugged your laptop in.

"Walk us through it." CEO Kim told you with a little more encouragement.

"This is the progress of the songs. We are done with both title tracks and on the way to finishing the b-side tracks." You explained.

"Title track 1." You began to play the songs for everyone. Even if it was a team effort, you still felt stressed knowing that you would have to accept everyone's scrutiny on behalf of the producers.

"Next song." CEO Kim directed and you bowed, playing the next song for the room.

"I think I'm going to throw up." Mingi seemed to feel your nervousness, watching how emotionless the CEO's face was as he listened to the songs that you played. He wasn't even up there but he felt his stomach churning from the nerves.

"It's good. Good job, Indigo." The CEO nodded his head when the final song finished playing. You let out a sigh of relief before you bowed deeply.

"Everyone, for those that don't know, this is Indigo's first time working with us and I would like to commend her on what a great job she's been doing. She's been surpassing expectations." He added.

"Thank you for your kind words, sir." You bowed again, your mask hiding your heated cheeks.

"Yay. Go, Indigo." The Ateez boys softly cheered, sending you small fist pumps and encouraging smiles, making you laugh.

"Eden, anything to add?" CEO Kim turned to the head producer. Eden nodded and stood up, giving more detailed updates on the progress from the other producers.

"Good work, producers. I'm happy to hear that the songs are coming along well. Thank you for working with the other Ateez members to involve them in the production process. Lastly, we have the finance team with the budget." CEO Kim waved for the next speaker. You and Eden bowed before returning to your seats.

"I told you, you could do it. There's nothing to be worried about, our work is good." Eden whispered.

"If you had told me I would be the one presenting earlier, I would have prepared more to explain about the songs." You complained.

"If I had told you earlier, you would be a nervous wreck, worried about presenting to our CEO. See? You didn't need preparation and he still complimented you." He said.

"Fine." You couldn't argue with that.

You didn't know much about finance, budgets and numbers so you didn't really pay much attention to the presentation.

"Thank you everyone for coming and preparing material to present. I'm glad we are progressing well for this comeback. Boys, it's all up to you now to deliver the hard work." The CEO said. The Ateez boys stood up and bowed.

"Thank you for all the hardwork that everyone has been putting into our comeback, we'll continue to work hard and not disappoint any of you." Hongjoong said and the others nodded in agreement.

"What disappoint? All of you don't disappoint, you always give it your all." The stylist director said.

"Agreed, it's a collective effort of everyone to ensure success." Eden added.

"Thank you." Everyone bowed to the CEO as he left with his assistant. The remaining people bowed to each other as they all packed up their things and left.

"You were amazing!" San lifted you up and spun you around.

"San!" You squealed, hitting his shoulder for him to put you down. You didn't want anyone to start gossiping after seeing that.

"You did good. The CEO really likes you, he doesn't compliment people openly that much." Mingi patted your head with a soft smile. You smiled up at him, giving him a friendly hug. You so badly wanted to give him a kiss and ask him to hold you to calm your nerves but you knew where you were now.

"Thank you." You giggled.

"Indigo, let's go meet the others to update them." Eden called for you and you left the boys to go with him back to the studio. There was a box outside Eden's office.

"Fan mail?" You teased. Eden rolled his eyes but smiled. He bent down to read the tag.

"It's actually addressed to you. The reception must have delivered it wrongly. Let me go get you a box cutter." Eden chuckled. You tilted your head and bent down.

'To: Indigo'

Indeed, it was your name on the box. There was no return address or sender name. Eden handed you the box cutter from his studio.

"Indigo, wait." He suddenly stopped you. Your hands froze, the cold seriousness in Eden's voice made you freeze.

"Don't open it. I'm calling security. Move back." Eden said. You dropped the box cutter and scooted back as told. You went to Eden, who was on the phone. But his words were drowned out when you saw what he saw.

What looked to be blood was seeping out the corner of the box. You completely missed it since it was the corner facing away from you. Eden's free hand wrapped around you to comfort you.

"W-What is that?"

"I don't know. We're not going to find out. Security is on their way." Eden rubbed your back to comfort you.

"Sit." Eden brought you into his studio and sat you down on his chair while he went out. But with the door ajar, you could hear a little of the conversation outside.

"This is horrible... Get rid of it. Now." Eden ordered.

"But sir, the note-"

"I don't care about the dumb note! When I say get rid of it, I mean get rid of everything!" He yelled, making you flinch.

"And you guys better be scanning through all the packages that come in through the front thoroughly from now on. This kind of package shouldn't have made it past security, whether it is for idols or not. Someone could have been seriously injured if it was someone else." Eden scolded.

"Doesn't mean there are no idols on this floor means that there can't still be a threat. No more bringing packages up to the producer floor. Everything is to be left downstairs." He commanded.

"Yes, sir." The security replied. Eden entered and you lifted your head to look at him. He took another chair to sit down opposite you.

"Are you okay?" He asked. You nodded your head glumly, staring at the ground in front of you.

"Indigo, have you ever got something like this before?" Eden asked with a much gentler, softer tone. He was worried that you were now fragile.

"No..."

"But?" He prompted, knowing you had more to say.

"I've been receiving threats... In my emails and on online platforms, even my ghost server, that's why I closed it temporarily... And a few weeks ago, someone followed me home from the convenience store." You gulped.

"And you've been dealing with all this on your own? Why would you not say anything? We can help you!" Eden's eyes widened in shock as he heard you list the incidents.

"I can't... Because I think the threat has to do with me and Mingi... And the boys are busy preparing for their comeback, I don't want to give them another thing to worry about, especially Mingi..."

"But you still shouldn't keep this to yourself..." Eden sighed. he reached out to hold your clamy hand.

"Seonghwa and Jongho knows. Jongho guessed something was wrong and Seonghwa accidentally saw one of the emails." You said.

"Mingi doesn't know any of this? Nothing at all."

"No, I can't tell him. Please don't tell him, Eden... Or any of the others... Mingi has been dealing with enough and I don't want to add to that with my issues." You chewed on your bottom lip, tears suddenly blurring your vision. Eden grabbed the tissue box and handed it to you.

"Indigo... You shouldn't be keeping all this to yourself and dealing with it on your own. I'm sure Mingi would feel even worse he if he knew you were keeping this from him..." He said.

"I know but he's going to think that this is his fault. I don't want him to think that when it isn't." Your lip quivered.

"What should I do, Eden? I'm fine with me receiving all the hate but I don't want Mingi or anyone else to get hurt." You asked.

"Silly girl, you're still worried about others even when things like this have happened. Think about your safety too. This is not a small matter." He patted your head.

"I won't tell Mingi. But we will need to do something to protect you more. Even if you're only here for a short contract, you're still considered a KQ employee no matter what and we won't let anything happen to you." He promised.

"Thank you."

"We will implement more security here. I'm more worried now that someone tried to follow you home. It means they have triangulated a plausible location that you're staying at." He frowned.

"Is there someone you can stay with temporarily? Just to have someone around to make sure you're safe." He asked.

"Not anyone close enough. I've been living independently from a young age." You shook your head.

"Let me see if I can get you a house in the same apartment building as the boys. At least the company knows that the security there is good enough to let them live there." He said.

"Okay. I'll just tell the boys my lease was up and KQ offered me an apartment in their building. But please, Eden. I don't want too many people knowing about this. Word gets around too quickly and I don't want to lose anymore control of this situation." You begged. Eden looked at you, he didn't want to agree.

"Fine. But if things get worse, I'm going to implement more safety measures, even if it means telling Mingi. I'm not going to mess around with anyone's safety."

"I understand. Thankfully, so far, this person has only expressed harm towards me and not Mingi." You said in relief.

"Don't just think about the safety of everyone else that you forget your own, Indigo." He frowned.

"Yes, I know. I'm sorry, Eden." You felt bad for always hiding things from him.

"Pabo, what are you apologising for?" He smiled softly. After a while, you headed back to your studio. You saw Mingi inside, sitting in your chair, waiting for you.

"There you are, baby." There was his familiar smile. He stood up and went over to you, engulfing you in a big bear hug.

"Sorry, I was talking to Eden about-"

"It's okay." He whispered, tilting your head up to plant his lips against yours. Oh, how you've missed Mingi so much. You missed everything about him, his warmth, his scent, the way his fingers laced and rested on your lower back when he hugged you.

"I missed you so much, you have no idea." He pressed his forehead against yours. You felt your eyes watering as you cupped his cheeks to look at him.

"I missed you too." You threw your arms around him, burying your face in his chest.

"Aww, baby. Don't cry." He stroked the back of your head, chuckling.

"You're doing so well here, I'm so proud of you." Mingi leaned down to shower your head in kisses. You looked up at him, gently yanking him down to kiss him again. You just missed him so much.

"My beautiful baby." He tucked your hair behind your ear. You sat on his lap on the couch.

"How did you sneak away?" You asked.

"I told Hongjoong hyung I deserve a prize for working so hard the past few weeks so he let me come." He laughed. You slapped his chest for calling you a 'prize'.

"As much as I love the fans and can't wait for them to see this comeback, I really wish time would slow down or stop just for a while. So I can be with you and continue to hold you like this without having to leave you for practice, you know, like a normal couple." Mingi sighed. You hummed in agreement.

"But if we didn't have our jobs, we wouldn't have met, Mings. Every relationship has its sacrifices. This is ours." You reasoned.

"You're right. I'd rather deal with the sacrifices than to not have met you, baby." He stroked your cheek.

~

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