#I just dig my new outfit sorry

[chiptrillino]

By any chance do you have a larger photo of those Yue designs? I'm absolutely digging them

uhm... sadly i didn't at the time you asked me. but i do have now! so sorry for the longer wait;;;

the one i posted were really tiny and i was working anyway on these. it just took me a bit to get it done :D uhm... so here me playing dressup... with yue... again... sorry yue...

if i have to explain mayself... my thought process is basically... yue is the moon. so her dress is either the moon or the enviorment around or below her. and.... you know... fish... -tries not to feel my ex profs glaring at me like "elaborate more dang it"-

also! all these option but if someone tells me to draw yue again i would still give her... a new outfit or just idk... because i can't pick!!!!

#chip!ask #chip!art #atla #yue #in uni i would have to like... go through my whole thinking process. #why did you do this why di you do that? #and i mean... i could reply and go into deatail about my thoght process but... #i am getting shy... #and selfconcious #and i just realized i forgot to click the boots of in that one translucent dress but i kinda like it like this??? #the boots are a vibe there not gona lie! #whaaa #-coughs and hides- #also my brain: red version for lunar esclips??? #(also you just asked over moon yue outfits... don't ask me about the others i am not done ... #don't ask me about other outfits... at this point i think it would be best to just offer you guys a picrew and let you go wild with it #DESIGN YOU OWN YUE! pick a hair pick the jewlery #everything couts! i think... #ah #if i am alowed to be biased and pick favourites! i pick the translusent ones... #its just a vibe! #a friend told me that it looks like elsa and i am feeling some negative kind of feel here...

[miguel-ohara-eater]

Something Different💌

(red: Miguel)

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(summary: you and Miguel were occasional fuck buddies, and he called you over one day and asked to try something new.)

CW: choking, slapping (not abusive), aggressive sex, cussing, a little dry humping, spitting, fingering, blowjob, and unprotected seggz ofc, and breath play 🥳

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"Can you come over?"

he immediately said as you'd answered the phone, his tone rough.

Miguel and you were kinda friends, more fuck buddies than anything. He'd call and ask, you'd say yes. (mainly because you had a little bit of a crush on him.)

"Again?" you questioned "I was just over last night."

you could hear him huff, probably pouting on the other side of the phone.

"I'm aware. But I'm horny again. Can you just come over??" yeah he was definitely pouting.

you sighed and got up off of your bed, pulling your panties back on and washing off your vibrator in the bathroom sink.

"you're lucky I was just in the mood." you said, opening your closet and looking for an outfit.

he smiled "good. so you should be wet by the time you get here huh?" he cooed

you rolled your eyes and walked back into your bathroom to get ready. "I'll be there in a half hour."

"okay."

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43 minutes later

you pull up to Miguels house. It's a large industrial and modern brown and black concrete penthouse, sat next to a lake away from most people.

you've been here many times and you know he's a millionaire but yet his his house always manages to surprise you a bit.

grabbing your keys and wallet, you get out of the car and straighten out the black skirt and pink tank top you chose.

it was a simple outfit but Miguel would always talk about your shoulders and thighs during sex, so you made it a point to wear something that doesn't cover that.

you walk up to the door, not even able to knock before Miguel opens his door and hugs you tightly, his huge body leaned over yours.

"you're late." he said, sounding a little annoyed.

he kissed the top of your head, and you could tell he was horny by the way his talons were digging in your waist.

"sorry, I couldn't find my lipgloss while I was getting ready." you replied, chuckling nervously.

he pulled you with him, stepping back and shutting the door. he picked you up, still holding you tightly with his arms around you.

"why wear makeup when I'm just going to ruin it?" he smiled, walking into the living room and setting you down on the couch.

you smiled a little, turning away so he didn't see.

he sat next to you, basically on top of your thigh and he put his hand on your waist and turned to you, kissing your neck.

"I was thinking, I wanted to try something different tonight."

you turned your head to him, running your hand through his hair as he kissed your neck.

"as in... what kind of different?" you were open to trying different things, but you still wanted to know.

he held your waist tightly, his claws digging through your shirt but you were used to it by now.

"a couple things." he mumbled into your neck

"is this like... a kink or a whole different sex style or position?"

sliding his hands underneath your legs, he pulled you into his lap and wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling your tank top down a bit and licking your chest.

"a couple kinks and uh..." was he so horny he couldn't keep his train of thought? "and a whole new thing."

you looked at him, shifting a little to get comfortable on his lap and you tapped his head.

"well what is it?"

"something called breath play and I wanted to try some more aggressive sex tonight." he looked at you expectantly

you shrugged "sure. sounds sexy to be honest." you smiled and gave him a small kiss.

his pupils dilated, then he gave you a tiny smile before sliding you off of him and in front of him as he sat on the couch.

you stood up, standing in front of him and he leaned back and smiled.

"get undressed. slowly." his tone shot straight to your clit, and you started to slowly undress.

once you got down to your skirt, you slowly pulled it down and he smirked as he slowly rubbed his bulge through his jeans.

"no panties huh?" he cooed "such a whore."

the nickname was new, but you liked it and smiled. he tapped his knee.

"grind." he demanded and you took a step forward, leaning down a bit and you started to grind your pussy over his knee, grabbing onto his shoulder and the couch cushion for some balance.

"good girl." he smiled and ran his hands up your waist and he flicked your nipples with his rough thumbs.

you bit your lip, throwing your head back and you moaned softly.

he leaned forward, biting your neck a bit and then he grabbed your hips, his grip stopping you from grinding.

"now get on your knees." he demanded, letting go you got off of his soaked knee and getting on your knees in front of him.

he looked down at you, adjusting his hips on the couch cushions and he unbuttoned his pants with one hand, pulling them down a bit.

you looked up at him

"this isn't super rough Miguel." you mumbled, confused as to why he was acting like he normally did.

he grinned, pulling his cock out of his boxers and he swirled his thumb around the tip, reaching out and patting your cheek.

"don't worry princess, just wait a second. it's coming."

you nodded and looked at his cock, then back up at him.

"now go ahead and suck." he said and tapped the sticky slit of his cock, already oozing with precum considering how horny was and how long he had been horny.

you scooch forward, wrapping your hand around the base and he smacks your cheek.

you look up at him, flabbergasted to say the least but not hurt.

"suck. not touch." he demands

"...well you didn't have to slap me." you mumble and let go of his thick cock.

"everytime you do something I don't like, or maybe even like, I'll smack you." he smiles

you grumble, looking up at him and you give him a small kitten lick to his tip.

"good..mm" he groans, basically music to your ears.

you kiss his tip, then wrap your lips around him. slowly making your way to the base.

he leans his head back, and you watch his stomach and chest muscles contract.

"fuck... just like that baby." he reaches over and grabs a fistful of your hair, tugging lightly and he looks down at you.

you suck on him lightly, essentially teasing him and he resists with everything in him to not fuck your throat.

you look up at him and smile a bit, taking your mouth off of him and licking from the balls up. when you wrap your lips back around his cock, he decides he's gonna start the aggressive part.

with a grunt, he shoves your head down to the bottom. his tip nudging your throat, earning a large gag from you and ropes of white cum cover your throat as he moans and throws his head back. you tap him, but he keeps his grip on your hair.

"breath play remember? just relax cariño." he cooed, and watch your face turn red. your nose was touching the dark pubic hairs on his pelvis, and you thought you were gonna pass out from suffocation.

but just before you could, he let go.

lifting your head, coughing and spitting his cock was absolutely drenched with your saliva. you wiped your mouth and swallowed what was left, looking up at him.

"stand up." you already knew by now to listen, so you stood up.

he patted his lap, and you sat on his thigh next to his cock.

he wrapped his arm around your neck, then licked his hand and reached over, rubbing on your clit.

you squirmed a bit, only for him to tighten his arm on your neck.

"quit moving." he snarled, and felt around your wet pussy, his fingers teasing your entrance.

you whimpered, and put your hand on his cock.

he grunted, then shoved two fingers deep into your pussy. you moaned loudly, your back arching and he thrusted his fingers in and out of your tight gummy walls faster than you'd even known he could.

you were seeing stars already, your jaw slack and mumbling incoherent things as he fingered you hard and fast.

"you like that baby? feel good hm?" he whispered in your ear, his arm tightening around your neck and making your face slowly turn red.

you opened your mouth, eyes rolling to the back of your head and you tried to say something but with the choking and fingering, nothing was able to come out.

he smiled, licking your ear. "good girl... such a little slut for me hm?"

your brain was foggy, barely processing what he was saying and he loosened his grip on your neck, letting you breath as you coughed and he kept the pace of your fingers the same.

you were trying to jerk him off with your free hand, but with how he was fingering you, you couldn't even moan.

you felt the familiar knot in your stomach, and you whined.

he noticed how you were getting more squirmy and he smiled to himself.

"go ahead and cum for me princess." he mumbled and kept his fingers pumping in you.

he took his other hand, smacking your clit and your back immediately arched and cum came spitting out of your tight hole, the knot loosening.

"f-fuck!" you moaned, biting your lip and your legs shaking.

he slowly slid his fingers out with a small squelch and licked them clean.

as your orgasm dies down, he sat you up and flipped you over onto the couch. he sat up, taking his pants and boxers off as you laid ass up on the couch, completely fucked dumb when he hadn't even actually fucked you yet.

he tossed his clothes onto yours on the floor, turning back to you and he positioned himself behind you.

he ran his hands up your waist, then gave his cock a few pumps.

"you likin this new thing hun?" he asked, reaching over and tugging on your hair so your back arched further and your head was leaned back.

you just gave a small whimper, as a yes and he took it that way.

"good girl." he smiled, then slapped your face a couple times.

"always such a little whore for me huh? pathetic."

you licked your lips, arching your back a little more for him and he smacked your ass before plunging his thick cock deep inside you.

you cried out in pleasure and pain, and he reached over and covered your mouth and nose.

"shush." he growled, already starting to thrust his hips as the sound of skin slapping together was the only thing heard.

he groaned, letting go of your hair but keeping his hand over your mouth and nose as he slapped your ass again.

"so fuckin tight" he moaned and slid his hand down to your throat, choking you.

"no matter how many times I fuck you you're always tight huh?" his thrusts got harder, his hand probably going to leave a little mark with how hard he was choking you.

he reached up and bit his hand, trying to keep himself from whimpering or whining with how good your pussy was. If he accidentally let out a whimper, it would be something he'd take to the grave.

his pace quickened, and he let go of your throat, earning a couple coughs and chokes. you leaned your head down, shoving your face into the couch cushions but he grabbed your hair like a ponytail to keep your head up.

your jaw went slack, your breasts bouncing with every thrust and his balls slapping against your ass.

your back was arched like a pretzel and you thought you were gonna snap. you whined, and Miguels pace stuttered a bit.

"k-keep making those noises for me princess." he groaned, taking his hand out of his mouth and slapping the same red spot on your ass again.

you winced, his hand was making a big hand print on your ass but it was okay. you'd probably get it tattooed or something.

he leaned down and licked your back, biting into your shoulder and his pace kept stuttering but he ignored it.

the harder he went, the more stars you saw and you thought you were gonna pass out. your face was a slobbering, crying mess but you didn't want him to stop.

"M-Miguel 'm gonna-" you moaned, panting and he quickened his pace. he was already going so fast you didn't think it was possible.

"cum." he growled, sitting back up and biting his hand. he slapped your ass again, and it didn't take long before you collapsed flat onto the couch, legs shaking as cum dripped onto Miguels cock and soaked him.

he adjusted to the new position, grabbing your hips and fucking you into the couch cushions.

after a couple more thrusts through your orgasm, his own came as roper of white covered your gummy walls and he groaned, pulling out and jerking off the rest of his cum onto your ass.

you were absolutely exhausted, panting and sweaty.

he laid on top of you, kissing your shoulder blade and looking at your face.

your makeup was completely ruined from all the slobber, sweat, and tears.

you gave him a small fucked-out smile and he kissed your forehead.

"told ya I'd mess up your makeup." he smiled

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OCT 2 YIPPEE. I really hated yesterday's one tbh but y'all seemed to like it 😭

I've had someone ask if there will be a part two, and nope! these are just oneshots for KinkTober so its a different plot and everything everyday. eventually when I get better at writing I will probably make a series with some of this stuff probably included though!

I hope you all enjoy this one, thanks for blowing up my notifications lol. see you TOMORROW 😈😈

(idea from @pissjuicencumballz )

#spiderman 2099 #2099 #astv miguel #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x you #smut #miguel smut #miguel o'hara x reader smut #kinktober miguel ohara #kinktober

[dazai-ritualist]

SWAY WITH ME…

— a date with alastor didn’t go as he had planned… but, it wasn’t that bad after all…

hi!!! i saw this idea from @callmechito and, i didnt make the idea exactly the way specified. but, i really wanted to try :)!! it is late at night though, so i did not make it as long as i wanted it to be (sorry if it’s rushed!!)

acid rain. perhaps it would’ve been wiser to check the 666 news weather report before scheduling your date…

you stood by the window of your hotel room, wearing what you’d call your sunday’s bests. thousands of sinners’ skins burning on impact from the acidic rain pouring outside.

knock!

“s/o, are you decent? may i come in?” a static voice came from the other side of the door. “uuh, yeah! come in” you called back to him as he gently opened the door.

and on the other side of the door, you saw a different side of alastor that had never been seen before; a smitten yet small smile drawn on his face, wearing a red coat, as per usual (though this time, his coat is not tattered), and his big doe eyes shyly looking at the outfit you’d chosen for your proposed date.

alastor let out a quiet sigh, an overwhelming feeling filling his chest, making it hard to breath. “my dear! well, aren’t you stunning? i might just drop dead right now, haha!” alastor laughed, a laugh track joining along. “haha… it’s a shame that we have to cancel our date…” you smiled bittersweetly, quite honestly looking forward to the date. it must have been a millennia since your last date, not to mention how it is with alastor, hell’s most eligible bachelors if i do say so myself…

“well, who said we had to cancel our date?” he tilted his head. “i’d think the rain outside would speak for itself…” you muttered out. “we could just have our date here at the hotel! we could simply move the date to my hotel room, would you like that?” his fingers tapped against his staff.

“su-“”brilliant! let’s make haste now!” he smiled gleefully, taking his hand in yours and shadow teleporting you to his hotel room— the warm red tones of the hotel harshly contrasting with the cool blue and green tones of the forest on the other side.

alastor took your fingers in his hand and gently guided you to a table with two seats. he pulled one out and helped you into the chair. “just sit tight now, darling. i’ll have niffty whip something up for us.” he smiled before leaving the room.

minutes later, alastor came back— two delectable dishes in hand. he placed one in front of you before sitting down himself and digging in.

the two of you had spent your dinner getting to know each other better (more like just him getting to know you better…), talking about whatever came to mind.

not for one second had you ever doubted alastor tonight. everything coming from his beautifully thin lips had sounded as genuine as ever.

after dinner had ended, you wiped your mouth with the napkin on your lap. “alastor, i had a really good time…” you grinned awkwardly, blood rushing to your face. “i think i must go now, i have a busy day tomorrow…” you frowned slightly before standing up to leave.

“nonsense! come, dance with me for a while, would you?” he teasingly pleaded, placing a hand on your shoulder. you hesitated for a while, considering the consequences of staying up an extra few minutes. “ahh… i guess it couldn’t hurt..” you smiled as alastor walked to his vinyl record played, placing the needle onto the grooves of the CD.

as alastor placed a hand on your shoulder and hip, sway by michael bublé began playing. you copied his actions, placing your own hands on his hip and shoulder as the two of you began dancing to the soft music, alastor’s soft voice singing along to the tune.

you soaked in the soft sight of the scary radio demon, as docile as a doe. you rested the side of your head against alastor’s chest, feeling every vibration as he sang. alastor sighed softly, all of this simply being too much for him to act calmly.

all of these emotions were too much, alastor needed a way to release them… he took his hand off of your shoulder before gently gripping your chin. he leaned down a bit before kissing you.

his lips smiled into the kiss, the hand on your hip snaking up to cup your cheek.

the kiss lasted quite long before he finally pulled away, a proud yet mischievous grin decorating his handsome face.

alastor leaned down, his mouth hovering over your ear. “would you like to know something, gorgeous?” he whispered, the hand on your chin resting once more on your shoulder. “i’d say i’m the luckiest man in hell right now, on a date with a treasure like you. i might just die, again!” he laughed. though, despite his joke— when he had said that, the radio filter on his voice was gone, letting you hear his true voice.

you looked up to meet his careful gaze as you grinned lovingly “i had a marvelous time with you… you make me happy that… im in hell.” you laughed.

as the song stopped, alastor paused, thinking to himself quietly. he dropped your hand before cupping your back. “you said you must leave, didn’t you? i wouldn’t want to be the reason you’re groggy in the morning!” he smiled, walking you over to your hotel room, just a few ways down.

“i did have an amazing night with you, my dear. i hope we could do this again, perhaps again during an acid rain shower?” he teased while laughing. a calm composure remaining on his face.

and despite that poker face, he was in the best terms; burning on the inside out. his longing for you filling all of his senses. he must stay gentlemanly though… so, for now, he’ll cherish the beautiful date he had with you tonight.

#i added so many fandom references in here lol… #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hasbin alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor

[xmalereader]

Miguel O’Hara x Black Cat! Male Reader || 4 ||

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|| Masterlist ||

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Authors note: Hello Everyone! I am back from another vacation…this boy be traveling a lot, but I was able to get part four done of this little mini series! I also want to thank everyone for 7.2k, because holy shit I gained 200 followers in less than a week. I don’t know how that happened but thank you! Also enjoy this new shot!

Summary: Miles and Miguel are a little stuck during a mission and Miles is hesitant to call for back up until a familiar anomaly changes things.

Warnings: No spoilers, fighting, language, parenting skills, hobie is the goat, fluff, black cat anomaly, protective reader and Miguel, some hints of Rio knowing about Miles and Miguel’s identity, short.

Word count: 2.0k

— || Part One || Part Two || Part Three ||

—

“Ah!”

Miles is throw against Miguel who catches him easily as the two tumble to the ground. The teen lying on top of the older Spider as they groan in pain. “How are these guys not giving up?” Miles grumbled out as he slowly gets up with the help of Miguel. The two have taken notice of an unusual Anomaly in the wrong universe. The two expected it to only be one only to encounter four on the other side when entering the universe. Both Miles and Miguel have been at it for hours, growing tired and restless.

“I think we should—“

“No.” Said Miguel, shutting down Miles suggest.

“I just think—“

“No.”

“Do you always say no?”

“No.” The sudden bickering catches the old Spider off guard as Miles grins under his mask, quick to dodge a piece of rumble heading towards them as the teenager swings after the anomaly and lands onto another building. “All I’m saying is that we should bring some back up!” Shouted Miles, grunting as he’s grabbed by the leg and dragged down from where he stood, causing a scream to escape his lips.

The teen comes face to face with Doctor Octavias, someone that he’s very familiar with in his own universe.

“We don’t need it!” Miguel shouts back as he attacks one of the other anaomlies, clearing not listening to Miles who struggled with his own problem as he used his electric static to try and malfunction Doctor Octavias arms. He escapes from his grasp and climbs higher up the building. “Lyla!” He calls out to the artificial intelligence.

“Yes, baby spider?”

Miles groans at the name.

“Can you call for back up, please?” His eyes widen when he’s pinned down a flash of black and white in front of him as a pair of claws dig into his neck and jaw, squinting up in pain as he grunts and makes direct eye contact with a familiar outfit. “Noir?”

The figure leans closer.

“Sorry, hun you must have me confused with someone else.” The voice is feminine as Miles frowns, noticing that the cat holding him down wasn’t Noir. This was someone entirely different but yet, similar to the one he knows. “Didn’t think a kid like you would be a spider—a bit clumsy.” She taunts, holding him down as her claws dig deeper into his neck, causing the teen to wince and glare under his mask.

Miles tried to use his web against the black cat only to have his wrist pinned down, he struggles with moving as she chuckled at him and looks around. “Don’t make this your fight kid, go home before you get yourself hurt.” She warns. Miles huffs out a small laugh as he watched her closely.

Miles can’t help but think about Noir and how every black cat was the same but him and he’s able to tell the difference between her and noir. “Yeah, I don’t think so.” He looks over her shoulder, noticing the familiar portal opening up. “You don’t belong in this world and if I can’t take you back then my dad will.”

The women above him cocks her head with a confused look on her face. Before she can react a flash of black is quick to shove her off Miles, watching as she rolls with a grunt and is quick to stabilize herself. The sound of metal claws against the pavement gets Miles attention, sitting up slowly to see Noir in front of him.

He’s in a crouching position, cat like as he glared under his goggles at the women before him. “Touch my kid again and I won’t hesitate to kill you.” He growls out in warning.

It didn’t take long for the rest of the back up to arrive, both Gwen and Hobie landing next to Miles and helping him up while Noir focused on the black cat in front of him. “Help Mig with the others, this ones mine.” Noir instructs the teens, his eyes not leaving the women before him as she grins at him. “How cute, but I’m not going anywhere.” She states, launching herself at Noir as the two get into a brawl.

Miles steps back and grunts.

“Did he just punch a women?” Gwen asks when she noticed Noir punch the other black cat in the stomach.

“Equal rights, equal fights!” Hobie shouts as he jumps off the building, heading towards one of the anomalies and helping Miguel. As much we he hated it, he knew he had no choice but to help. The three teens worked together on taking down the villains, tying them up and getting rid of their weapons while Miguel worked on the one he was dealing with, using his fangs to inject the poison and numbing them from doing anything else.

“I told you I didn’t need back up.” Miguel grumbled as he drags the anomaly towards the pile of villains as Miles chuckles nervously. “Sure you didn’t, took us a few hours to try and take down one. We needed all the help we could get.” He explains, knowing how much Miguel hated admitting help when it comes towards missions like this. “Doesn’t matter—is it just you three?” He questions.

“Y/n is still dealing with a different version of himself.” Gwen points behind her back towards the roof top of one of the buildings as the four of them turned to watch the fight, noticing how Noir and Black cats movements are nearly in sync. “Five bucks that he takes her down in a minute.” Said Hobie, getting the other teens intrigued by the bet. “Bet ten that he takes her down, now!” Miles points at the scene before them as Noir grows angry, changing his way of fighting and using an old trick of his that Miguel taught him a long time ago.

“Stay down, for once!” Noir growls through gritted teeth as he gets her tied up with his grappling hook, keeping her claws far away from the wire and using the extra wire to tie her wrists together, finally getting her pinned.

Miguel hums, shrugging his shoulder. “I taught him that.” He mumbled as he swings towards the building, landing next to Noir and giving his husband a glance. “You know, I didn’t think you’d be able to take your own self down.”

“For the record, that is not me and second I learned a thing or two differently than everyone else.” Noir shot back as he leans against Miguels shoulder, feeling himself grow tired from the constant fighting while wincing in pain. Turns out that he got a few pretty good cuts from the anomaly. “We should have that checked out.” Said Miguel as his fingers touch the small wounds which only caused Noir to smile. “Nah, I’m okay I’ve been through worse.” He bends down to pick up the anomaly and carry them with towards the rest of the others as Miguel opens a portal back to base.

“Still, at least have it checked for me.” Miguel takes his own anomaly and drags them inside the portal while the others do the same. Y/n sighs softly and rolls his eyes when hearing how worried his husband is for him and knows that he shouldn’t argue with him. “Fine, I will get it checked out.” He walks through the portal that takes them back to base.

Getting assistance from the other spiders and taking the anomalies back to their own universe where they belonged while Y/n walks alongside Miguel and Miles. Y/n had noticed Miles limping with each step he took, causing him to raise a brow. “Hey.” His voice gets Miles’ attention and turns to face the older man who gently gripped his chin. “You alright? You’re limping—she didn’t hurt you did she?” Y/n’s voice suddenly growing protective as he glares, but Miles is quick to shake his head. “No, no, don’t worry this wasn’t her doing. I was dealing with one of the other anomalies and they pulled me by the leg, I should be fine soon.”

Miles give his leg a small shake and continued to walk alongside Y/n with a content smile on his face after he removes his mask when entering base. “Good, because I can’t have your mother hunting me down if she finds out what happened.” Miles groans, forgetting about his mother.

It’s been three months since Miles’ mother found out about Miles and Miguel being Spider-Man, catching the two in the act. Miles couldn’t forget the amount of laughing that Y/n did when he was told about the accident. Miles was panicking and Miguel was not happy with his husbands reaction with all of this. I took some time for Miles’ mother to grow adjusted with the idea of her son being the cities hero. She had actually threatened Miguel to keep a close eye on Miles whenever they are out on missions.

Technically, Miles is suppose to be under Miguels watch. But, he wasn’t doing a very good job at it.

“Just tell your mom that you pulled a muscle.” Y/n shrugs his shoulders when entering Miguels lab. “She’s a nurse, she will notice how I really got it.” Miles shakes his head already knowing how clever his mother was. His mother, Rio, knew about his identity along with Miguels, but she still had no idea that Miles’ mentor was the cities greatest thief. The same thief that his dad spent days trying to capture not knowing that so called thief was the same man who was invited to his families dinners.

“If Rio finds out about you, she will not be too happy to know that her son hangs around a thief.” Miguels words catch the cats attention as he gasps dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. “You wound me.” Y/n gives off a small show of being dramatic only to laugh in the end. “She can be upset about me being a thief, but she will for sure kill us back when she finds out that you married a thief and knew about it the whole time.”

Miguel froze, knowing damn well that Y/n was right.

“Then we are a very small, but dysfunctional family.” Miguel mutters out as he focused on his work, making sure that everything was left as a report regarding the anomalies and who was involved in the fight. It was very rare for Miguel to accept his feelings about having a family again, after losing his daughter and gaining another kid from Y/n was still something new to him. He’s slowly getting used to Miles and the teen was still adjusting to Miguel too.

They had their moments together and the rare times that Miguel grew protective over Miles. Y/n remembers the first time he witnessed such actions, noticing Miguels body language change. It happened when one of the spiders had the audacity to pick on Miles for being an anomaly, blaming him for the doom of universe 42 since they didn’t have a spider to protect their world. Miguel usually showed no signs of the matter of caring, doing his own job, but when the spider took things too far. Miguel stepped in and he was not happy.

Y/n still remembers the fear that he struck on the spider, telling them to focus on their job on protecting their own world and minding their own business and threatening to send them back to where they came from and cutting off access to allowing them back on base for picking on his kid.

His kid.

Even though Miles wasn’t theirs by blood, their time together made them feel like a family.

Y/n sighs softly, snapping back to reality as he approached Miles. “Alright, go on. Mama bird is waiting for you. I’d suggest heading back home before she gets worries and starts calling Miguel about your late return back home.” He gives the teen a nudge on the shoulder and tussling his hair on the way over to Miguel.

Miles chuckles. “Alright, I’m going. I’ll see you both tonight!” The teen gives them a small wave before opening a portal back to his universe and heading back home for the day, leaving both Miguel and Y/n on there own.

Y/n walks over to Miguel, standing next to his side and leaning his head against his shoulder. “I think we make great parents.”

“I don’t think sending a kid to fight off four villains is considered good parenting.”

Y/n laughs. “You were there weren’t you? That means that you were keeping an eye on him and making sure that nothing happens to him.” He points out, chin on Miguels shoulder as he watched his husband closely who rolls his eyes at him. Not saying anything and taking his silence as a small victory.

“See, we make great parents!” Y/n says with a huge smile.

Miguel can only sign deeply. “Rio is going to kill us.”

#male reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x male reader #Spider-Man #Spider-Man 2099 #atsv #black cat series #BlackCat tag

[imyourbratzdoll]

Tangerine smut please?

hi! sorry for taking so long! I hope you enjoy this request!

summary - a handsome stranger makes you cum on the train.

warning - smut, fingering, public stuff.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips (deactivated)

The day started off perfect, you decided to wear your new outfit that consisted of a black long sleeved shirt underneath a cropped green button up and a matching short skirt. You made yourself the perfect coffee and headed to the train station before finding the perfect seat inside. You drowned out the rest of the world, your head buried in a book. Until you are suddenly pulled out of it by three men sitting on the seats beside you, your eyes widen when you make eye contact with a very attractive man in a blue suit.

You try to ignore them by focusing on your book but their constant whispering pierce through your concentration and you nearly drop your book as you hear a voice. “Excuse me, love.” You look back up and notice the handsome man now standing over you. You can feel yourself pulse between your legs and it’s confusing because you’ve never reacted like this before. “Do you mind if I sit here? You see, I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you are and my brother is being a pain.” You blink, slowly nodding and sucking in a breath as he slides into the seat next to you, his scent causing you to become dizzy with lust. “Thanks, love.” 

You try to go back to your book, but you can’t and you can feel him staring at you once in a while. You begin to squirm in your seat, his thigh brushes against you causing a whimper to escape before you can stop it. Your face flushes, eyes wide and you try to hide. 

Tangerine smirks. “Do I make you nervous, love?” You ignore him, scooting closer to the window, feeling embarrassed because you want to jump him. “You know, I know something that will take those nerves away, love. Do you wanna try?” You look at him, chewing on your bottom lip as you stare at him with wide eyes. “But you’ll have to very quiet, I wouldn’t want to punish you for being a naughty girl.” You feel yourself throb, nails digging into your palms as you hold back a whimper at his words. 

“O–okay…” Your breath hitches as his hand makes contact with your thigh, sliding up it until it disappears underneath your skirt. He leans closer to you, blocking anyone’s view of what he’s about to do to you. 

“No knickers, love? It’s like you knew you were going to be a slut today.” His fingers make contact with your clit, rubbing it nice and slow, watching you shake and whimper softly from his movements. “Good girl, you’re being nice and quiet for me.” He leans closer, sliding his fingers up and down before he begins to slowly push them inside your sopping cunt, curling them upwards, watching you struggle to keep your mouth closed. “Keep reading your book, love. Wouldn’t want anyone to catch us.” Tangerine feels you squeeze around his fingers at his words, he grins. “You wanna be caught, love? Want to be caught being a naughty slut, huh?” 

You lean your head on his shoulder, shakily opening the book, unable to focus on the words as his fingers continue to thrust and curl, your hand moves to his thigh and you grip onto it, digging your nails into him as he continues to fingerfuck you. “O–oh…”

“Shh.” His moustache tickles your ear as he whispers into it. His fingers begin to hit the spongey spot deep inside of you, causing your eyes to roll back and you to arch off the chair, biting down onto your bottom lip hard enough to cause blood. Tangerine watches as you cum, juices coating his hand before you sink back down into the seat, soft whimpers escaping you. “Good girl.” He gently removes his fingers from your drenched cunt, lifting them to his mouth, eyes connecting with yours as you watch him suck the fingers that were just inside of you. 

You blink, trying to catch your breath as the man winks at you, sliding a piece of paper with his name and number on it before he stands. “Call me when you need to get off again, love.” With that, he leaves, disappearing down the train. You stare at the piece of paper, feeling yourself begin to throb again at the thought of him touching you. 

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

#imyourbratzdollasks #anon reply #imyourbratzdollwork #tangerine fanfic #tangerine x reader #tangerine #tangerine bullet train #tangerine x you #tangerine x y/n #tangerine fluff #tangerine fanfiction #tangerine fic #tangerine imagine #tangerine imagines #tangerine oneshot #tangerine one shot #tangerine angst #tangerine x fem!reader #tangerine x female reader #aaron taylor johnson fanfiction #aaron taylor johnson #aaron taylor johnson fic

[idanceuntilidie]

YAN DEMON X HUMAN READER X YAN ANGEL PLS SORRY I HADNT REALIZED YOU DIF ANGEL ALREADY VKVK

I hope it was okay!! it accidentally got long.. sorry pookie wookie woo damn this would make a good vn ngl

yan angel x gn reader x yan demon

tw: yandere themes and behaviours, mentions of killing

The light from the billboard always shinesBut it changed twelve times since you went away

Requests are open

“An angel sat on one shoulder, a devil on the other. Both of them wore my face.” But you are not really sure they have your face. You are not a very religious person, so you didn’t understand why they decided to bother you exactly but at least you weren’t lonely anymore. Mirui appeared first, you remember the meeting very well, hell, it gave you a heart attack. You work in a small cafe, a gem hidden in the mud. You liked it very much, your boss was nice and you even made friends with some of the people you worked with.

Well you didn’t think it was so nice and fun now, working as the cashier reminded you about the thing you dreaded. Interactions with other beings that you do not know, see for the first time and could be really fucking mean at times. Homosapiens. A woman in her mid twenties stood in front of you, waving her hands and screaming her lungs out. Your polite smile tightens as your nails dig painfully into your forearm. She found out that what she ordered was really expensive, it’s weird because there are prices next to the stuff you guys make. The woman's face flushed deep beet red in anger, and you are pretty sure she spat on you. Ew. You heard a small chuckle followed by a loud snort and laughter from your right, it startled you, but when you looked there you saw no one. After another fit of laughter you noticed a small red thing sitting on your right shoulder. A small human-like creature. It looked back at you, eyes flickering with mischief and a small full of white sharp teeth. “You should spill that coffee on her, ya know? It’s still hot, it can’t go to waste” it said Your eyes slowly went back to the screaming woman, then on the hot coffee on the counter.

To be fired or not to be fired, that is the question. Before you even got a chance to fully think this through, your boss appeared behind you and shooed you away to deal with the customer. Your boss was a savage old lady, the customer stood no chance against her. Out of sight out of mind. The small demon muttered something, disappointed, it crossed its arms and pouted. You scurried away, to the kitchen to take your mind off of things and maybe help around a bit.

Faith appeared a few weeks after Mirui did, successfully stopping you from chugging only energy drinks, spilling coffee and doing pranks on rude customers. “Do it, do it, do it, do it!” she giggled manically, clapping her hands happily. Today Mirui decided to be feminine, she sat on your right shoulder like she always did. You noticed every day she had new outfits, very revealing of course, it made you blush slightly. “Shut up, I can't focus.” “Dear child, they might fire you.” a new voice on your left stated calmly. God damn it another one. This time a painfully white angel sat on your left shoulder. He didn’t even look at you, his attention was focused on little stone tablets sitting on his lap.

“Ew who the fuck are you” Mirui spat pointing a very sharp manicured finger on the angel.

“The only rational one here” “It looks disgusting, Y/N quickly throw it off!” she grabbed your collar and shook it violently. The angel rolled its eyes and looked at her. “Stop it demon spawn, I was sent here to make sure this disgusting-” it started but when it looked at Mirui, a look of disgust appeared on its face. “Piece of work won’t do too much damage to such a pure soul, y/n leave that salt alone.” You and Mirui groaned, you will have revenge on that karen. “You suck” “Go suck dick and shut up” “Language both of you” “Ew, let’s call it Faith or Angelico or something, it’s basic- just like it” Mirui gagged. Faith went back to his stone tablets, not looking at you or the demon. Even though it wasn’t looking, you could feel how he judges you. In the end, they didn’t leave you alone. 

You wake and fall asleep to their constant bickering. You figured it’s because Mirui is a demon, and Faith is an angel. Or maybe it’s because they are so different? It makes you tired honestly. Yet their different personalities and behaviors made your life a little bit more interesting.

Faith sat on the edge of the couch, watching as Mirui did a little fashion show. You were forced to watch too,  he wouldn’t leave you alone if you didn’t. Your eyesight got a little blurry, you were tired. Very very tired, so in the end you couldn’t help but just doze off. Mirui noticed it first, giddy as he returned to his normal size. Giggling and swinging his feet as he watched you slowly fall asleep. Carefully, he gets up to sit right next to you. He sighed dreamily as he played with you hair. Aren’t you just the cutest? Naive too, just perfect. He nuzzled against your cheek, smiling widely. He could feel how warm your body was, hell he could even smell you. Mirui covered his mouth with his hand to prevent the laughter that was slowly bubbling up.

He heard a very loud scoff from Faith and when he looked at them, they had a very unpleasant look on their face.

“What’s up?” he smiled „Jealous?”

„It’s disgusting how you cling to them when they are asleep.” Faith hissed

“Oh is the baby mad because they don’t have the balls to actually get this close?” Mirui smiled proudly, cuddling up to you even closer than possible. You stirred a bit in your sleep, your pretty face scrunching in confusion before returning to a calm state. He closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep on your side, only to be yanked back by his hair by Faith. “Back off, you demon scum” “Oh oh careful now or I might start to like it” “I am serious Mirui” Faith hissed, grabbing the demon's throat as they squeezed it painfully. Their touch was painful, Mirui swore he heard a small sizzling which made him hiss. “leave, they are mine and you knew that.” “fuck off, I love them more than your sorry ass does.” he said as he tried to get away from the angel.

It happened a lot, especially when you slept. None of them wanted to give you up, let the other have your love and attention which resulted in fighting. Oh how surprised you would be if you found out that those arguments were about you, and they didn’t just appear out of thin air. Hell they have known you way before you even noticed their existence. Always there, in the background, watching, listening, admiring. Mirui was first to approach, thinking that Faith would eventually back off, and then he wouldn’t need to kill them, but they didn��t. 

And Faith, well, at first they didn’t know about Mirui, but when he eventually wanted to meet you he saw that little red slut sitting on your shoulder whispering sins. Oh their poor sweetheart, tainted and tortured by a monster. He decided to watch for a bit then appear as your savior.Now both of them are stuck being next to each other almost all the time, none of them would give up though. They will stay by your side.

Your eyes slowly open to see a white and red blob strangling each other. Your face twists into a frown, before sighing and going back to sleep.

#yan angel #yan demon #x reader #male yandere #female yandere #gn yandere #yanderes #yandere #tw yandere #oc yandere #yandere x darling #yandere blog #yandere oc #gn reader #yandere x gn reader #yanderes x gn reader #mooties

[seresinhangmanjake]

Only For You

Thorn x female!reader

Summary: Thorn hides a huge part of his life from you and he's constantly leaving for long periods of time. You're not sure you'll ever know all of his secrets, but you know you're tired of saying goodbye.

Notes/warnings: angsty/fluffy, but nothing else really. mistakes, I'm sure. I did my best.

Words: 1354

---

“Going where?” you ask, rubbing your hands up and down your arms to shield your bare skin from the cold. He shrugs out of his nylon, sorry-excuse-for-a-coat and wraps it around your shoulders, but it’s a useless effort. In a thin t-shirt, he’ll be frozen in no time and you’ll be left to trade the coat back and forth as he stands on your front porch in the winter’s stinging air. 

His hands slide into his jeans front pockets. “I can’t tell you.”

“For how long?”

“I don’t know.”

With a huff, you ask, “What do you know, Thorn?”

He flinches. A hand comes out of his pocket to run over his buzzed hair. You can’t count how many times you’ve asked him these questions, and you kick yourself for bothering when the answers have not once strayed from their cookie-cutter precision. He never knows. Or he does and refuses to tell you. Wherever the truth lies, it doesn’t make its way to you. But the hurt in his mossy-green eyes is not for the secrets. It’s not for the disappearing act he forces you through. It’s reserved solely for the brand new weariness in your tone. 

This is not what you do. Your pattern with him has been consistent from the beginning. A month after he first kissed you, three weeks after you first slept together, you received the same pieced-together speech: ‘I have to leave. I can’t tell you why. I don’t know for how long.’ And you provided the same response you always do; a response you weren’t aware at the time would be commonly leaving your mouth; a response he’s not once requested, but with every feature of his face, pleads for: ‘I’ll be here when you get back’. Then he smiles, as always, and kisses you, and you pull him into your bed only for him to be gone by the time you wake. 

But you just broke the pattern with that tone of yours. It’s less welcoming, offering inadequate reassurance that when he knocks on your door in one or two or three months it’ll open. 

Thorn swallows hard as he fidgets in place, and you feel tendrils of guilt spread throughout your system. Thorn doesn’t fidget. Fidgeting means nerves. Nerves mean anxiety. And anxiety is not a well-worn jacket on the man who weaseled his way into your heart. It doesn’t fit. That jacket isn’t made in his size and it feels no different than when a toddler is squeezed into an outfit their parents refuse to accept they’ve grown out of. 

“What I know is that I want to come back to you,” he says. A beat passes and the cloud of nervous energy is shoved aside, likely a required skill for whatever the hell he does when he leaves you. He steps closer. Your heart beats harder. “I will walk up here and knock on this door and wait for you to let me in. Like I always do.”

Lips parting, you sink further into the scent of cologne that long ago seeped into the interior fibers of his coat. It’s an instinctual comfort while everything inside of your body fights your mind.

Fingers twitch to reach out and jerk him inside, but if you do that there’s no chance you’ll resist him; no chance you will even make it to your bed. With one foot through the door, he’ll have you against the wall or on the floor with the hallway runner serving as the only barrier between your back and the chill of the hardwood. With his tongue on your neck, you will forget how tired you are of his rollercoastering in and out of your life. His fingers digging into your flesh will crack your icy determination to no longer miss him until it’s a melted puddle beneath you. His cock deep inside of you will demand you let go of letting him go. 

Well, it’ll demand you let go of considering letting him go. It’s not what you want. If you had your pick of clichéd happy endings, your wicked-smart, tattooed-up, former—you question—criminal would settle in with you. But, no matter how hard you try, you can’t form that image in your mind. Thorn with a ring on his finger, you with his baby growing in your belly, a house you can share—if that exists somewhere, you’re losing hope that it’s on your timeline. 

“Thorn, how long is this going to last?”

“I told you, I don’t—”

“No,” you interrupt with a shake of your head. “Not just this time. All of it. When does it stop? When do you stay?”

His shoulders slump the slightest with his heavy sigh. “Sweetness, I made promises. I’ve got people relying on me.”

“And what about me? What am I supposed to do?” you ask, praying the struggle of holding back your tears has slipped under his radar despite that not being a possibility before. The only tears Thorn doesn’t catch are the ones he isn’t around to witness. “What if I left you all the time for reasons I refused to tell you about? You couldn’t find me, you couldn’t contact me, you didn’t know if I was safe, you wouldn’t be able to sleep wondering if I might be dea—”

“Stop!” he snaps, then quieter, repeats, “Stop.” His eyes fall from yours to the stone of your porch and enough seconds pass that there’s an awkwardness to the silence. “I would lose my mind if it was you, Ok?” he says, connecting to your stare. “I’d go fucking crazy.”

“And somehow you expect me not to.”

His hands move to cup your face, thumbs stroking back and forth over your cheekbones. “I don’t expect anything of you, sweetness. I can't, because it wouldn't be fair. But it doesn't change the truth that you don’t leave my thoughts. When I'm gone, every free second I have is spent thinking about coming home to you.”

Except coming home often means adding to your worries. There’s not one instance in the time you’ve known him that he has returned to you without bruises at every stage of healing scattered across his body. But you don’t speak of them. Neither do you speak of the split lip, cut eyebrow, sliced skin, and the worst of them: the hole in his arm that was shoddily stitched up, leaving a permanent reminder of the secret life he keeps from you. 

Often, when he is asleep, you run your finger over the raised skin, simultaneously thankful that he made it back from such an ordeal and cursing that he left to begin with. Then, from the twisted mess those feelings cause in your head, you find that your pain at seeing him hurt always develops a branch of anger.

Despite all of the blows you know he takes, you're not quick enough to stop yourself from throwing one of your own. “Assuming you’ll be able to come home at all…right?” 

His eyes widen before they squeeze shut. Sharp jawline sharpens more as teeth clench. Thorn takes a deep breath, then proves that his forehead resting against yours is all it takes for your anger to fizzle. 

Wrapping your hands around his wrists, you finally allow the tears to spill. They pour with abandon, overwhelming you the way a tidal wave might overtake a small ship in its ocean.

“I know whatever you do is stupidly dangerous,” pushes through your sudden sobs and sniffles. 

“That’s why I don’t tell you what it is,” he whispers as his nose nudges yours. “But I’m careful, sweetness. I’m careful because of you.”

Your lips freeze from the tears that reach them. The salty liquid under the chilled air bleeds away all moisture until his mouth claims a kiss. Not soft, not sweet, but beautifully burning. And from that burn, you find your calm. From familiarity, you find peace. From him, you find home. 

When you separate, your breaths form a puff of heat that shoves away the cold. “I won’t let you down,” he promises. “And I’ll be back before you know it.”

---

A/N: there is very likely going to be a part 2 to this, assuming people would want to read it.

tags: @wkndwlff @blackwidownat2814 @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @sailor-aviator @penguin876 @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @emilyoflanternhill @wretchedmo @mamachasesmayhem @shanimallina87 @crowsreadsarahjmaas @sky2nd @jessicab1991 @rosedurin @averyhotchner @horseshoegirl

#thorn expendables 3 #glen powell #glen powell fic #glen powell fanfiction #thorn expendables #the expendables #the expendables fic #the expendables 3 #thorn x reader #glen powell thorn

[ch3rriiii-bunn]

Hello!! It’s me again. I am simply obsessed with the Kokushibo x fem! Reader that I requested, the “after hours” story. Like, it’s my favorite story currently.

I’m wanting to request a nsfw Muzan x fem! Reader where he has a maid (reader) and he saw her on the floor trying to scrub a spot off the floor that is refusing to come off. (her maid uniform/ outfit is short so her ass is peaking out) So he decides to pick her up by her forearm and leads her to his bedroom/chamber (not sure what to call it) and fucks her. (Not unwanted sex.)

I swear, requesting nsfw is awkward.😭

I’m so sorry for this request being a really long request, I hope this makes sense.😭

Please, take your time and have a good weekend and good next week!

Temptation

Pairing: Muzan x Fem!maid reader

Synopsis: Muzan seeing his maid bent over while cleaning and her not realizing how hard she made him♡

Content: Maid outfit, clothes on sex, Muzan is a ass man, Muzan being somewhat nice 😱, Dom Muzan, size kink (Muzan has a big pp), sub reader, Horny Muzan, doggy style, oral (M receiving), throat fucking, praising/degrading, edging, cum eating, creampie

Word count: 2.5k♡

A/n: Nooo don't feel awkward!!! You made a lot of sense dw. Hope you like this!♡

"How frustrating," Muzan said to himself in a low growl under his breath as he walked into his home. Nakime teleported Muzan back home after today's many failed experiences to make a replica of the blue spider lily. He has been trying to conquer the sun for many years and has invested his time searching and studying about this flower.

Knowing this, an annoyed day is very usual for Muzan. He is rarely satisfied, but today, he was angry. Angry another day went by with a failed experiment, and none of his upper ranks brought him news about the flower he desperately needed. Muzan lossend his tie and kicked off his shoes off at the front door and made his way inside with the intention of heading to his bath to relax.

However, he stopped once he turned the coner and saw you. His house maid on the floor, on your hands and knees, scrubbing the blood stain off the floor with all your strength. Usually, Muzan would be angry at you for being in his way, but it's like all the anger he felt from today was just gone once he eyes lay upon your ass from behind, admiring it's shape when your bent over.

You stopped and let out a heavy sigh. You leaned over more to rest your cheek down on the back of your hands. "Why is human blood so hard to get out? Wish it was a demons blood.. it would've just evaporated," you breathlessly said to yourself. You hadn't noticed Muzan come in yet, and with how you're bent over, it was only natural for your short skirt to ride up and expose your behind.

Muzan couldn't look away. His eyes narrow, seeing how the lining of your panties dig into the flesh of your ass and his eyes looked down between your legs to see how your panties also hug your pussy in place. Muzan's jaw clenched. He tried to hold himself back. He "didn't have time for this" or at least that's what he repeated in his head.

However, Muzan just couldn't push his thoughts away. His body couldn't either. Muzan's jaw lossened to let out some breaths, his fangs exposed, and his eyes looked down to his crotch. His body grew hot and he felt the blood rush down to his cock and saw the bulge for in his pants from his hard cock. Muzan couldn't take it anymore. It's been so long since he had a pretty human Satisfy him, especially after tonight.

Muzan needed you, and he needed you now. He cleared his throat for you to notice his arrival, and you snapped out of your exhausted state. You quickly turned around, fixing your skirt, and sat down on the floor. "Welcome home, Lord Muzan. I'd greet you better, but as you can see.." You chuckled nervously. "The stain is quiet hard to get out," you explain.

You were prepared for Muzan to throw some kind of insult at you but not prepared for his response. "I prefer this greeting." Muzan said. His lips were once a frown when he came into the house and now curled into a smirk. A lustful smirk. You opened your mouth to say something, but then your eyes lingered to his lower half and seen the bulge in Muzan's pants.

Muzan took notice of you seeing his arousal and walked closer to you. Close enough for his crotch to be inches away from his face, not hiding it at all. You couldn't help but stare at it for a moment and observe how big his bulge is up close. You got curious to know just how big his cock really is out of his boxers but then you tried to snap out of it and looked at Muzan.

Muzan chuckled. "Dirty girl. Curious to see a demons cock mm?" He said and watched your eyes widen in embarrassment. You forgot. Muzan can read minds, not just demons, but humans too. "I'm sorry, Lord Muzan," you apologized. Muzan gave you a soft grin and brought his hand to your head, and petted your head.

"Oh darling. I don't think a simple sorry can fix this. Just look at how hard you've made me from seeing you bending over like a bitch in heat and having that pretty ass out for just anyone to see" Muzan smirked as he pushes your head towards to have your cheek softly rest on his hard on. Your heart was racing from the excitement. This wasn't on purpose, nor was it planned.

You were simply tired from scrubbing the floor to notice Muzan's arrival. However, you couldn't help but enjoy how things were turning out. It made you feel good knowing you were able to make Muzan this hard. You felt it on your cheek, of course. It would be a waste to turn down this golden opportunity from a handsome, attractive demon like Muzan.

"Master should I.." Your words trail off in a seductive tone as you take off your cleaning gloves. You slide your hand up his muscular thigh and over his bulge. You couldn't help but tease it by rubbing his tip though his pants and then giving his cock a little squeeze. "Fuck.." Muzan swore under his breath and grabbed your hand, stopping you from teasing him anymore.

You were about to apologize, thinking Muzan didn't like that, but he pulled you up from the ground. Before you could balance yourself, Muzan bent down to sneak his hand under your thigh and picked you up, holding your body over his shoulder. "Lord Muzan-" you held onto Muzan as he carried you to his bedroom. Once inside, he kicked the door shut behind him and put you down on his bed, almost throwing you.

"I give you permission to call me Muzan." He said and motioned his finger for you to bring your face closer. You adjust yourself to aline your face to his crotch. He let out a soft sigh as he felt the tightness around his pants release once you've unbuckled his belt and pulled out his hard cock.

Muzan is big, you thought as your hand stroked down to the base and back up to his tip. Your hand squeezed around the thick width size of his cock as well. You looked up at Muzan. A look that thought if you could really take it but he chuckled. "I take if you've seen smaller. You're about to have sex with a demon darling. We're quite bigger then human males. You'll get used to the size." Muzan pet your head again.

You nod and open your mouth to wrap your lips around the tip. Muzan let out a soft grunt as you start by sucking lightly on his tip and rolling your tongue around it, teasing his pre cum. "Your lips are so soft.." Muzan said through a heavy breath. "I could put you to better use than just a maid. Now let's open that mouth," Muzan said and watched you open your mouth. "Yes, that's it- f-fuck" Muzan moaned once you got his cock half way in your mouth.

You took him, little by little and deeper, bobbing your head and moaning each time you felt his tip hit the back of your throat. You continue to lay on your stomach with half your body up, using your hands to support yourself, and look up at Muzan. He moaned at the site of how pretty you looked and thrust his hips forward a bit. "You're too good at this~" He said and placed both hands on your head.

"You're gonna make me cum soon. Breath through your nose, and don't you dare gag" Muzan said, already having that slight fucked out expression on his face, close to his orgasm. He thrust his hips forward, groaning at how your mouth squeezed his cock in as he fucked it. "That's the face I want to see," Muzan said, seeing your glossy eyes and knit brows and the feeling the vibrations of your moans around his cock.

You felt your drool drip down your chin and onto your hands, tightly gripping onto the sheets as Muzan's hips thrust faster. His veiny hands having a firm hold on your head as he pleasures himself in your mouth till his thrusts came to a stop and releasing his cum inside. Muzan hunched over slightly and placed his hand to your neck, mainly having his thumb on your throat.

"That's it. Drink it." Muzan catches his breath and has his thumb there to feel more satisfaction, knowing you are drinking it. There's only so much you could take, a demon really can cum a lot and you felt some of his cum spill out from the side of your chin. He pulled your mouth off his cock and pulled his pants down to drop around his ankles.

"On hands and knees, now," Muzan said, standing at the edge of the bed with his cock still hard in your face. You cleaned your mouth and got up to turn around. "Let me see that pretty ass again~" Muzan bit his bottom lip as he watched you lift your skirt over you ass. He smirked and grabbed your ass. "All you did was suck my cock and your already soaked? Dirty girl," Muzan rubbed hus thumb up and down over the set spot of your panties.

You felt a bit shy at the call out of your arousal sate but you couldn't help but moan from the feeling of how his thumb rubbed your cunt through your panties, even feeling his thumb push harder as if it rip through your panties to be inside you. "These are in the way now," Muzan said. You felt his hand grip on your panties and heard a tear as he ripped them right off.

Muzan threw your ruined pantie over his shoulder, onto the ground, and began to slide his tip between your wet folds, to your clit. "I assumed you wanted to take off your maid uniform, but you seem to be getting off to the idea of me fucking you in it" Muzan's voice deepened as he brought his tip to your hole and pushes his tip in and out. "Not that I mind you keeping it on. I could've ripped it off if I wanted to, but you look so fucking good for me right now" he groaned.

You cover your mouth, moaning softly as he felt Muzan fuck you with just his tip until he stopped. You looked back and felt a harsh spank on your ass. Muzan's cock twitched, watching how your ass jiggled from his spank and felt your muscles tighten around his tip and hearing your sweet moan from his slap. "Muzan~" you whined out his name, practically begging for him to fuck you but he just clicks his tounge.

"I thought I've made myself clear. I said that once you're in my room, I'd get you to work. Or did you think that only applied to just sucking my cock" Muzan spanked your ass again. "No~ ooh~" your back arches as you moan. "Then get to it. Fuck yourself on my cock" Muzan said, holding his shaft in place and waited for you to back up on it. You take stady breaths, preparing yourself as he push your hips back, moaning as you felt his cock go inside.

Muzan let out a deep sigh as he felt your walls tighten around his length and how your pussy sucked him in as you move your hips back and fouth. Your ass smacking back against his lower half. "Feels good?" Muzan asked, and you nodded your head, biting your bottom lip. Muzan spanked your ass again, harder this time until you felt a sting. "I asked you a question. You know I hate repeating myself." Muzan said.

"Yes! It feels so good~ really good Muzan" You whimper and begin to fuck yourself back on his cock faster until he grabbed your hips. "Uh, uh. Slow." He said, and you let out a desperate moan as you go back on it slowly. "That's it. Ask to go after when your ready to cum." Muzan teased. You were getting close, you reached your hand down to rub your clit.

Each time you move your hips back, your moans grew Louder and you began to rub your clit faster. "Please~" you begged, over and over. "Please, what? Speak up." Muzan huffed and spanked your ass again. "Please~ c-can I move faster? I need to cum" you begged, looking back at Muzan who had a devilish grin on his face. "Yeah. Go ahead and cum on my cock"

As soon as you heard those words, your ass smacked back against Muzan, filling the sounds with skin smacking against each other and moans. "Muzan!" You rubbed your clit faster until your hips stopped and your legs shaking as you came on his cock. "Good girl." Muzan moan, mixed in wjth a growl as he grabbed onto your hips and began to thrust his hips. "Good- fucking- girl," he said and fucks you through your orgasm.

You gasped, moaning loudly as his hips thrust fast and hard. You heard his deep moans and heavy breaths. It's like he was holding back before and is now fucking you like he wants to fill you up with his cum. "Taking my cock so good" he grunted as his hands push down on your hips, making you arch your back more, till you decide to rest your upper body on the bed, eventually getting you in a face down, ass up position.

"Muzan~ Muzan, please-" You whine loudly, feeling his big cock deeper inside your sensitive cunt. You moved your hand back behind you to Muzan's thigh, to some what, push him back. "Move your fucking hands" Muzan demanded, his voice deepening as he grabbed your hand and held it behind your back. "M-Muzan i-" "How dare you think you get to cum and make a mess on my cock and try to hold me back?" Muzan cut you off as he grunts.

Muzan grabbed both your hands, holding them behind your back with one hand and continued to fuck you. "M-sorry~" you slur your words. "I-Im just so sensitive- Muzan," you whimpered. "Too Sensitive to take my cum in your sloppy cunt?" Muzan asked. No, I'm not! Please cum inside me, please~" you begged and heard his deep grunts and moans softly turn into whimpers as he fucks you.

Muzan was already close. His hips snacking faster and slopper until he stopped and all he could mutter out was a, "fuck" as his tip kissed up against your cervix and released his thick load inside you. Like before, you felt so much cum. You moan into the sheets as you feel his thick load inside and splat out of you on the bed. Muzan calmed down enough to steady his breathing again and slowly pulled out of you.

Muzan placed his hand on your ass cheek but then pressed his thumb on your asshole. "This is what happens when you bend over like that in my house." He smirked, knowing how much you also enjoyed it and he leaned down towards your ear.

"How about we go another round and I train this hole to take my cock next?"

#demon slayer smut #kny smut #muzan smut #muzan x reader #muzan kibutsuji #kny muzan #muzan x y/n

[garoujo]

・✶ ｡ﾟ you decide to make good use of childe’s new harness.

꒰ this is based off his outfit in his official birthday art ꒱ ♱ warnings — f!reader, unprotected sex, you hold onto childe’s harness while you ride him, this is kinda short ‘m sorry.

“oh? so this is all it took—hnnn, it seems you’ve been scheming.” childe grunts when you give a particularly sharp bounce on his cock, your plush walls squeezing around the blunt tip before his head is falling back to moan. but then your fingers curl under the harness strapped around his chest and you’re pulling him forward again, making him smirk this time when he looks at you.

he had become rather suspicious when he watched your initial reaction to his new outfit — your eyes glancing over the tight burgundy shirt that fit across his chest before your gaze was narrowed along the tight leather strap.

he could feel the heat that radiated from you as you approached him, pushing yourself into his lap with an emotion he could only describe as a carnal need, and you know he’d never deny you of anything, especially not him.

“i believe this.. fuck, means you like it?” childe goads and you feel his fingers tighten around the dip of your waist when his cock kisses along the sensitive, too deep spot inside of you that makes you keen — pleasured tears gathering along your lashes as your fingers tighten around the leather once more.

“y-yes, suits you.” you finally manage although it’s choked and whispery and a sound that makes the harbinger roll his hips into you again before he’s meeting your thrusts with his own, driving into you faster as he pulls your chest flush against his and lets you hear the way he’s breathing heavy with you.

there’s amusement in childe’s eyes when he feels your walls tremble around him, but he still finds it in himself to tease you as he lets his gloved fingers trace their way down the length of your spine, slowing his thrusts to languid grinds as he digs his cock against the spots that have you crying for him.

your fingers twist in the burgundy fabric of his shirt from where it lays half unbuttoned over his chest and shoulders, and he sucks on his lower lip when he groans again, tilting his head to tease the shell of your ear with a breathless croon of a laugh.

“hah, so you just couldn’t wait to get your hands on me..hnnn—well i could get used to this.” childe draws but despite his playful tone you can still hear the slight tremble to his words, feeling his cock twitch and throb inside of you as he desperately tries not lose himself in the needy hug of your walls.

but you can’t help but moan when you pull back to wrap your fingers around the harness once more, letting it aid your needy humps on his cock as your tits jiggle with every impact of his hips against your own. his hands almost curl into fists in your skin when you find a pace that feels like it knocks the air from his lungs, making him feel mindless as he matches your intoxicating thrusts and grinds with quick ruts of his hips.

“feels so g-good, ajax!” your pussy squelches, wet and messy everytime you sink back down on childe’s pretty cock, and when you twitch around him once more you know he’s close when it’s followed by a moan that’s low and rugged, one that has him hissing afterwards and unable to hide the dangerous curl of his lips when the sound feels like it rocks through you.

“now now, let’s not get too ahead of ourselves.. you first.”

© 2022 garoujo. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

#݁ . ࿓ : sealed #genshin impact x you #genshin x you #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #childe x reader #childe smut #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia smut #childe x you #tartaglia x you

[winniethewife]

I tried to do something nice and all I got were these assless chaps. 

(Joel Miller x Reader)

Requested By @summonthesoups, Hope you love it!

Warnings: NAKED Joel. Slight humiliation. Reader is wearing a skirt, Pre!outbreak  Smut under the cut. Mama/daddy petnames, blowjob, Dacryphilia, PinV, Biting,

Minors DNI

Words:801

Joel Wanted to do something fun for their anniversary. He thought that wearing a sexy outfit would do it. He stood in the bedroom, wearing only a set of Chaps and a cowboy hat. He was turned away from the door as he spread rose petals on the bed. Just then he hears the door creak open.

“Oh! Woah! Wow…Joel…” She whistles lowly in appreciation.

“Hey, Mama. Like the surprise?” He turns to face her a sexy smirk on his face. She looks at him she smiles, then she bursts out laughing. “What?”

“Its…its your…Oh my god Joel…Ha!” She keeps laughing, Bent over laughing like crazy.

“Hey! I was trying to do sometin’ nice for you Baby!” He makes a grumpy face as he watches her fall over with laughter.

“I Know, I Know, I’m sorry, its just…Your dick is…Oh my god.” She rolls on the floor laughing. She can’t even look at him she’s laughing so hard.

“Jesus Christ…” he laughs sitting down on the bed. “Maybe It was a stupid idea.”

“No! No, Daddy. It was a good Idea, I’m sorry… You’re trying so hard Hon.” She crawls over to him and sits in between his legs. Her hands on his thighs, she leans in and kisses his inner thigh, his cock twitches at the near contact. He lets out a soft grunt.

“Baby. You know… I do try my best…taking care of you and little Sarah…” He says softly touching her cheek as she looks up at him. She gives him another kiss then looks up at him with a grin, before taking his dick in her had stroking it a few times before giving the tip a few little kitten licks. Joel groans softly as she starts to go down on him, her lips wrapped around him as she bobs her head in a steady pace.

“Oh…Fuck…” Joel groans out as he places his head on the back of her head gently guiding her as she sticks her tongue out, gliding it along him. As she choked down his cock tears sprung in her eyes, he moans softly at the sight. She knew exactly how to turn him on, she was everything that turned him on. Every inch of her. When she pulled off of him, coughing slightly he lifted her up and moved them both on to the bed, he puts her down on his lap and is about to lay back before he thinks about it. He takes his cowboy hat off and puts it on her head. He smirks.

“That looks good on you sugar.” He says softly as he caresses her curves. She smiles sweetly at him. As he leans back she kisses him softly leaning toward him, which he takes the opportunity to slide her panties aside and slide inside her. He swallows the soft moan that emits from her lips as he thrusts into her. He starts to pull at her clothes as he moves in and out of her at a steady pace. Off goes the shirt, bra, even managing to pull off the skirt but by the time they get to her panties he just smirks before tearing them off.

“Hey! Those were my nice ones!” she protests slightly before moaning again as he bottoms out inside her.

“I’ll get you new ones, hell I’ll get you a bunch if you let me keep doing that.” He chuckles as he feels her cunt clench around him, letting slip a groan as he grab her hips and starts to slam her down on him chasing his climax, feeling the high. He sits up again, his mouth on her neck, his teeth sinking into her as she nearly screams in pleasure.

“Joel! Fuck! Ngh.” She shouts as he bites down hard on her neck. Not even caring she’ll have to wear that mark on her the whole week at work, she’d wear it with pride. She starts to feel her own orgasm coming on, she wraps her arms around his neck and digging her nails into his back.

“That’s it Baby, that’s it. Cum with me mama. Cum with daddy” He growls as he feels the insurmountable amount of pleasure sky rocketing as he fucks her, Harder faster, Like their life depended on it. As if on command she finds herself on the edge, her climax falling over her like a waterfall. As she tightened around her Joel sloppily trusts into her a few more times before releasing his hot spend into her. They touch foreheads as they both cry out, riding out their highs in each other’s tender embrace. Joel pulling her back as he falls back on the bed, breathing heavily. He kisses her again softly.

“Happy Anniversary baby.”

“Joel…Our anniversary is next month.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

~

Masterlist

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #the last of us #tlou #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #x reader #smut #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fic #joel the last of us #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fic #joel tlou #Spotify

[wildemaven]

The Secrets We Keep…

Pairing: Dave York x F!Reader

WC: 5284

Warnings: 18+; self doubt, asshole friend, cheating, divorce, failed engagement, food and alcohol, hotel hookups, hot and heavy make out session, a little angst I think, secretly in love with friend’s husband, I think that’s it.

A/N: This has been sitting for so long! I’m glad to finally get this off my WIP list! I struggled through some parts of this so I hope it flows well!! I feel like Dave is misunderstood and just wants to be loved, so this is me trying to give him that… Anyways hope you enjoy! Likes, Comments and Reblogs are appreciated, helps me know you enjoy and helps me to stay motivated so I can write more.

Shout out to @gnpwdrnwhiskey getting me in my Dave feels and talking through this with me!!

Masterlist / Main

“I’m going to tell him tonight!” You told the reflection looking back at you.

You give yourself a once over in the mirror, admiring the way the black dress drapes over your body, the way it hugged every inch of you. This slip dress was outside your realm of comfort, especially for tonight. You lived in well-worn jeans and buttery soft t-shirts outside of your 9-5 work attire, sandals or sneakers depending on the weather-- You chose comfort over dressing up 90% of the time.

But tonight you decided to throw caution to the wind, opting for something on the sexier side in hopes for a little confidence boost. The dress, simple jewelry and strappy heels were definitely doing it for you in this very moment. Taking one last spin, your phone vibrates on our dresser. Noting the time, you already know who it is—your longtime friend Carol.

*Ding*

Carol: Are you on your way yet?? The sooner I can get out of here the better!!

*Ding*

Carol: Dave is hovering and it’s pathetic

You were already dreading tonight and it hadn’t even begun.

*Ding*

Carol: I need a drink! The sooner the better!

You: Hi! Sorry!! I got sidetracked picking an outfit, but settled on the 5th option I tried on! Just grabbing my purse and heading out the door. Be there in 15!!

Carol. Carol York.

Your longtime friend of many years. You’d met when you both attended the same college in this very town. Both graduating at the same time and starting your careers together. You considered her one of your closest friends. You’d both had gotten engaged around the same time too. Her to Dave, who you always found to be very reserved but polite—could be his government job. And you to Jason… Jason who worked in accounting and loved to crunch numbers at all hours of the day— thrilling.

But as the years went on it was apparent that Carol didn’t value the friendship you shared as much as you had.

The digs were what you first started to pick up on throughout the years— the backhanded compliments, at your expense. Always pointing out things she thought you could fix about yourself— “You shouldn’t wear your hair like that, it’s not flattering” “I don’t know why you keep wearing that color, it horrible” “Why do you always just stand there when we go out? You would probably have more friends if you actually talked to other people”

You always brushed them off as Carol’s way of being a “good friend”, and as years went on you found yourself believing most of what she said too. She wouldn’t say them if they weren’t true… right??

When your engagement to Jason ended, Carol was there for you— sort of.

She and Dave had been married for a year when you and Jason had called it quits, deciding you were better off as friends and not romantically.

While you weren’t that heartbroken over the break-up, you still wanted your friend to lean on as you began to navigate through this new chapter of your life. Carol let you sulk for about 2 days before she was letting you know everything you could have done better and why Jason was better off. And once again, you took her harshness as just being a good friend—because that’s what good friends do… right??

It wasn’t until the affair began did you start to look at Carol differently.

Her and Dave had always seemed rock solid in their marriage. You never heard about fights or disagreements. Carol never complained about him outside of the normal annoyances. Dave was always the outstanding husband everyone adored. And while he was ever the dutiful husband, he was equally handsome. Carol knew women looked at him too. But that wasn’t enough for her. He wasn’t enough for her.

She met Glenn through work, you assumed some young intern wanting work his way up in the ranks. Carol kept it hidden as much as she could. But as they got more serious, the quick fucks in the office weren’t sufficient for them. So Carol had to think quick on her feet, come up with something that could get her more time with Glen.

In comes Girl’s Night.

Who would suspect anyone would be cheating, if they were meeting with their dear friend every Wednesday for a regular Girl’s Night? That’s how you found yourself getting thrown into this mess of a situation. Carol confided in you about the affair, said she was bored to death with Dave and needed something more exciting in her life— a complete shock to you. You had tried to tell her to just explain to Dave where she was coming from, maybe they could seek counseling to try and mend whatever Carol thought was lacking.

But Carol wouldn’t budge.

You became third wheel to her extra-curricular marital activities. Picking her up every Wednesday and driving to the fancy hotel across town where she would meet up with Glenn at the room he booked for them weekly. You would sit at the bar in the lobby for close to an hour by yourself, wishing you were literally anywhere else but there.

You felt icky letting this carry on for as long as it did—almost as if you were the one doing the cheating too. You didn’t deserve to be put in this position.

Dave doesn’t deserve this! I have to say something. I can’t be a part of this anymore! You thought to yourself as you drove the few blocks it took to get to their lovely two-story home. He deserved to know who his wife was and how she was when he wasn’t around.

Dave was a great guy. Always attentive to Carol and her lavish ways. Her wanting to look the part of the successful wife. Top name brand clothes and accessories, top of the line cars and dinners at the fanciest restaurants for no special occasion other than to just be seen. Dave just let her be, never complaining or showing any sort of annoyance at her ridiculous behavior.

Dave was the perfect husband if you were being brutally honest. And perfectly handsome. His dark locks were always brushed just right, never out of place. His eyes, while dark in color, held so much lightness to them—especially when he smiled that gorgeous smile of his. Your gaze instinctually would gravitate towards him without even realizing it sometimes. Imagining what it would be like to have someone as dreamy as Dave was.

You had even imagined what it would be like if it was you who Dave came home to every night. How you would take care of him—preparing his favorite meals, making sure he had a few snacks tucked away in his briefcase just in case there wasn’t time for lunch. Dave was worthy of being taken care of everyday. But this wasn’t reality.

Reality was Dave is married to your friend who doesn’t love him the way that you could—the way that you deeply wanted to.

You pushed those thoughts aside as you pulled up to their home. Checking yourself in the mirror once more before making your way up to their front door.

You knocked several times, waiting on the front step, hoping it would be Carol to open the door. You weren’t sure you could see Dave in this very moment. You wanted to wait until after you dropped Carol off at home, knowing she would be indulging in a few drinks too many and wouldn’t be up for conversation once she was safely home for the evening.

The creak of the door opening pulls you from your thoughts, and staring back at you is Dave. Dave in his grey fitted work slacks, baby blue dress shirt with its sleeves rolled up exposing his beautiful taut forearms. Your breath hitches in surprise, trying your best to conceal any sort of desire you have for this man.

“Hi..” His voice trailed off as his eyes scanned your body from head to toe, no words needed to convey the look of desire he tried so hard to make look less than obvious.

“Hi Dave. I.. umm.. Is Carol ready??” The words manage to fumble from your mouth. The look he’s giving you is hard to read but it’s enough to send a yearning want through your body.

“Yes…Yeah! She said she would be down in just a second. Just finishing up. Would you like to come in and wait? I can get you a drink??” Pulling the door open and motioning for you to come in. He seems nervous too.

“Thank you, but I’m good. I don’t plan on drinking tonight but I appreciate the offer.” Stepping through the door and planting yourself in their entryway.

There’s a heaviness in the air as you both stand there in silence.

You avert your eyes as much as possible but you can’t help but look at the man standing before you, they way you’re so drawn to him as he stands there with his head down and hip out, hands resting on his narrow waist line.

The sound of Carol bounding down the stairs has you standing taller, hoping your awkwardness isn’t noticeable.

“Alright don’t wait up for me Dave. I’m sure we’ll be late like always.” Grabbing her purse off the stair railing and shoving her phone and wallet in to it.

“You’re wearing that?!” She points at you. Her expression shows distaste and a sense of jealousy if you had to guess.

You look down at yourself, embarrassment ticking the back of your neck. Looking up you see Dave staring at you, his face hard to read, he must agree with her and you wish you could crawl in a hole and hide away forever.

“Do I look bad?”

“Well it’s not the worst thing you’ve worn. But maybe this will the thing that catches someone’s attention finally.”

“Carol..” Dave’s eyebrows arch up at her comment, his jaw ticking to the side as Carol continues her onslaught of badgering, shifting his stance in the uncomfortableness that now surrounds the three of you.

“We’re late. Let’s go.” Clapping her hands together to announce her departure. Dave goes in for a kiss or a hug but is met with Carols retreating back as she makes her way to the car.

“Have a good night Dave. I’ll make sure she comes back in one piece.” You smile at him sweetly as you begin your journey to the car.

“Just so you know she was wrong. You look nice.”

You stop just before you’ve made it outside, turning to see Dave staring at you, his gaze has softened bit with Carol now out of earshot.

You can’t help but feel giddy at his comment, a smile tugging at your lips as you look at him.

“Thanks, Dave.”

*

You can feel your palms begin to sweat as you try to think of how to bring up the subject to Carol, knowing it won’t be received well.

You turn the volume of the radio down so you’re not competing for her attention.

“Carol, we need to talk. When are you going to tell Dave about the affair? You can’t keep this up forever. Just tell him you’re unhappy and I’m sure he’ll understand or something.”

“Ugh! Can we talk about anything but Dave.” Rolling her eyes and avoiding the topic all together.

“Carol I’m serious.” Your grip on the steering wheel tightening as you continue to question her. “This needs to end. And whether that’s you telling Dave you’re done and want a divorce or you stop this secrecy thing you’re doing and fix your marriage.”

You’re adrenaline is peaking and you can feel yourself questioning whether or not you’re doing the right thing.

“You couldn’t even keep a man long enough to get married, let alone keep an actual relationship— you think I’m going to take advice from you? Ha! That’s real fuckin’ rich coming from you.”

“This is the last time Carol. No more girls night out. No more me covering for you. I’m done— I don’t want to be a part of your lies any more.” Putting your car in park, finality dripping from your voice.

“What are you going to do, tell him yourself.” Swallowing the last bit of confidence you had as she continues. “You don’t think I see the way you look at Dave? That I don’t see the way you make eyes at my husband? You sound like a hypocrite.”

You can feel the heat as it spreads across your face. Are you as horrible as she is? You’d never act on your feelings towards Dave— he’s married, and he loves Carol. You would never involve yourself in someone’s marriage.

“Here, get yourself a drink or two, loosen up a bit. And while you’re at it, take out that stick you have lodge up your ass— might help you get laid.” Venom pouring from her mouth as she exits the car, tossing a few $20 bills on the seat before slamming the door shut.

*

The bartender keeps the drinks coming, Diet Coke on the rocks is as good as it’s going to get. You’ll pour yourself something stronger the minute you get home. You’re going to need it after tonight’s disastrous argument with Carol.

You’ve been sitting here nearing two hours now, an hour longer than normal and turning down several unwanted advances from inebriated hotel guests who clearly thought they were being slick as they slurred their words.

The bartender silently places another glass in front of you, a pity nod to your pathetic singleness. You’ll be sure to leave him a decent tip for the somewhat non-judgmental service.

A staggering figure heading your direction catches your attention. Carol being helped by who can only assume is Glen— you’d never met him prior to this evening, only been told of him by Carol.

You’re taken aback by him, he’s not what you expected at all. He’s short in stature, pointed features and what you can only assume is a poorly glued on hair piece.

Your brain trying to figure out the how and the what behind his appeal. He is everything Dave is not by appearance standards— you have to stop yourself from comparing this guy to Dave, he’s not yours.

Glen, who’s one bum hip away from an AARP subscription, is edging exhaustion as he tries his best to keep Carol upright as he tries to prop her up once they get to the bar.

Carol attempts to say something, but she is too far gone to make any sense.

“She finished two bottles of champagne, barely touched dinner so she’s a little drunk.” You’re already annoyed by his voice and you’d just met him.

He asks for your help and you both all but carry Carols half limp body to the passenger seat of your car.

Buckling her in, cause you still care for her safety, he mumbles some gross lovey nonsense to her and kisses her with his chapped crinkled lips. Thankfully they’re both unaware of how confused and semi-grossed out you are at their whole interaction.

“I’m Glen by the way.” Leaning further into the car extending his crepey hand over Carol to you in the driver’s seat.

You can smell the champagne on Carol’s breath, definitely smells expensive and nauseating, as she slurs through tries her best to introduce him to you, telling you how Glen is the CEO of her firm and how much money he has— it all making sense now.

You look at his hand then back up to his face. “So I’ve heard. Please close the door.”

He slinks out and closes the door as you start the car, promptly backing out of the space to set out on your drive back to the York’s home.

You were looking forward to washing this night off of you. Hoping a hot shower would strip away the guilt and shame of being an accomplice to Carol’s affair, as well as the what you can only assume the ending of your friendship.

*

You’re not sure how long you’ve been sitting in Dave and Carol’s driveway. Carol’s snoring the soundtrack to you weighing the pros and cons of telling Dave.

Pros:

He wouldn’t have to suffer Carol’s charade of being the perfect couple to keep up with the Jones’

He wouldn’t have to deal with Carol being insufferable when she doesn’t get her way

He would be happy

Cons:

He might think you’re making things up to break up their marriage

He might tell you you’re meddling

He might hate you

The odds seem pretty even as your brain continues its spiral trying to convince yourself to just tell Dave the truth. The possibility of never seeing him again weighing heavily on your heart.

There’s a knock on your window and you nearly have a heart attack. Dave is bent down trying to get your attention, you’re not sure if he’d been standing there awhile or not.

You roll down your window, the cool air hitting your face, a slight chill creeping over your skin.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” You melt at the sight of his smile, he looks so happy when he does.

“She might have gotten a little carried away tonight.” Looking over at Carol still completely passed out, trying to decide what you should share about your evening.

“That’s okay. I can go ahead get her out.” He’s still looking at you, his gaze is enveloping and sincere. “Would you like to come in for a bit?”

“Umm, yeah— sure. I’ll grab her purse for you.”

Some how Dave makes into the house with cradling her sleeping body, you following on his heels. Even in her drunken state, he’s still an attentive husband.

You set her purse down on the entry table and shuffle about, not really sure what to do with yourself. You’ve been here plenty of times but you all of a sudden feel like a stranger within these walls.

“Go ahead and help yourself to water or snacks if you’re hungry, just going to put Carol to bed and then I’ll be right down.” Looking down at you from the top of the stairs.

You admire his broad shoulders, his T-shirt pulled tight across them and his flexed biceps bulging as he carries his cheating wife to bed.

A drink of cold water was just what you needed to calm yourself down, now the glass sits heavy in your hand as you stand in the kitchen, trying to not let your mind wander off too much.

“Sorry about that. Got her all tucked in for the night. She’s going to hurt tomorrow.” Dave says as he enters the kitchen.

“Mhmmm..” Taking one last sip of water, your throat suddenly dry at the sight of him— a comfy relaxed t-shirt and a pair of dark wash jeans.

“Yeah…So, you ladies must have had a fun night then??”

You watch him move about the kitchen, grabbing dishes from varied spots on the counters and placing them in the sink.

“Yeah… W-we always have a great time.”

You place your now empty glass on the kitchen island in front of you, trying your best to sound as convincing as possible, but you’re not really sure he’s buying it when he only hums in response.

“I have some of that wine you love in the fridge if you want a glass?” He says pointing over to the fridge behind you as he settles up against the island counter next to you, actively trying to keep some distance between the two of you.

“I didn’t realize you like it too?”

“I— actually I don’t.” A nervous laugh huffs out of his chest, his hands settling in his pockets as he looks down at his feet for a few seconds, then back over to you. “You always bring it over and seemed to really enjoy drinking it. I keep a bottle, you just in case.”

“Oh..” His admission has you reeling.

Why would he go out of his way to do that for you? Carol doesn’t even like the wine, and you know this because she makes a point to tell you how cheap it is compared to the vintage Cabernet any chance she gets, which is usually in front of her other friends and colleagues.

And then it hits you like a ton of bricks out of no where, Dave has been more of a friend to you over the years than Carol ever has been. Always making sure you feel comfortable when he’s around and doing these small little things for you, like a normal friend would.

“Dave… There’s something I need to tell you.”

“Yeah?” His brows furrowed as he looks at you with concern.

“Umm, these Girl’s Nights aren’t really that…” You take a deep breath before you continue to share your truth. “Carol…” The words seem to get caught in your throat, but you decide it’s now or never. “Carol’s been having an affair with her boss. She came up with this weekly night out thing so she could meet up with him and I some how got caught up in it. I told her she needed to tell—“

“I know.” You think you hear him laugh as he says it.

“What? You know about the affair?!”

“Yeah. Known for awhile actually.”

“And you never said anything?!”

“I work for the government and she’s really not as subtle as she think she is. Plus I needed to quietly collect all the information to help my case when we go to court. Knowing Carol, she’ll try to twist everything.”

Your hands planted firmly on the countertop to hold yourself up as you process what he just told you. You don’t know if this is a relief that Dave knows, or makes you look even worse that you hadn’t said something sooner, your head spinning in circles.

“Wait! What do you mean when you go to court?” Your attention snapping back over to where he’s still standing.

“I filed for divorce last week. The paperwork is waiting for her on the nightstand next to the Advil and water she’ll need when she wakes up.”

You can’t help feel relieved and happy Dave knows but also a little sad that he now has to deal with this. Divorces can be messy and knowing Carol, she isn’t going to go down without a fight.

“I’m so sorry Dave. I should have told you sooner. I can’t believe I just let her think she could use me for her own gain.” Your head hangs down a bit, you wish you had stood up for yourself all those times Carol was anything but kind to you— but hindsight is always 20/20 as they say.

Dave must sense your emotions as he slowly places his hand on yours, his thumb drawing small delicate circles over your wrist.

Your eyes are glued to where his hand is, it’s warm and tender. The tiny movements have your heart pounding, you’re not sure if he realizes the effect it’s having on you.

“Hey..” He leans back a bit to get your attention back to him. “You have nothing to be sorry for, this isn’t your fault at all. Even with out the affair, I think this would still be our outcome.”

“What do you mean? You seemed so in love with her.”

“I mean, yeah, I do love her— did?” His jaw ticks to the side a bit, trying to gather his thoughts. “We’ve both been distant for awhile now. I’ve been sleeping in the guest room for a month— we’ve essentially been separated under the same roof.”

“Carol never said anything.”

“I’m sure she wanted everyone to still think she had this perfect life outside of these walls.”

“Doesn’t really seem fair to you.”

He shrugs his shoulders, looking at you with a slight grin. “I could say the same about how she treats you.” And he’s right.

“You look really beautiful tonight.” His voice is shaky, his smile soft as he takes you in again. Pushing himself off the counter he inches closer until he’s standing directly behind you.

“Th-thank you.”

His fingers toying with yours as his firm chest meets your back, heat radiating from him as he cages you in.

“I’ve always thought you were beautiful, always wanted to tell you how beautiful you are.” His breath fanning hot against your ear. Your breathing heavy and rapid as he confesses his thoughts to you.

“Tell me to stop and I will…”

You turn so you’re facing him, your body giving in to what it has so desperately been craving, your hands seeking out more of him as they slide up his chest to his broad shoulders.

His eyes flitting up and down, your lips and eyes his main focus as he waits for a response.

“Don’t stop…please.” Ever.

It’s magnetic the way his lips collide into yours, a moment you’d only ever dreamed about in private, never thinking it would ever become your reality.

His strong hands work over your body, grabbing, pushing, pulling—taking advantage of having you this close to him.

Dave is a force, a heady mix of carnal desire and affection— a man starved of love.

The minute your lips part, his tongue is seeking out yours, heavy but sweet as he devours your mouth— you try your best to give him the same energy he’s pouring into you.

Your hips will themselves towards his, a slow deliberate grind against him, your fingers accentuating your need for more— and more he’s willing to give.

He pats your hip, signaling for you to hop on the counter, his hands grabbing the backs of your thighs helping you up.

A wet sensation has you nipples perking, Dave taking the weight of your breast in his mouth while he gently pinches and rolls your other nipple. The feeling of his warm mouth and the cool fabric of the dress against you sensitive skin elicits a small whimper, your head falling back and back arching into his touch.

“Dave..” You’re not even sure what you were going to say, your chest heaving and head clouded by lust. You’re putty at the hands of this man.

“Yeah, tell me—tell me what you want.” Kissing his every open space available to him— the top of your exposed chest all the way up your neck. His hands pushing your dress higher as he pushes your legs apart, prompting you to wrap them around him and pulling him in close.

“You. Always wanted you!”

A moan rips from his throat and he kissing you like he’s not sure if he’s ever going to again, grabbing your ass and pulling you closer to him. Your own hands moving about, gripping his hair and caressing his face as your mouths work together.

Arousal thick and swarming, fueling the sexual fire that’s about to burn this fucking kitchen down.

At some point the reality of what is happening cracks through your brain and your body goes rigid— guilt washing over you like an ice cold bath.

Dave senses the shift in your demeanor and pulls away, brows pinched in concern as he tries to read your expression.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay— did I hurt you?” He’s breathless, his hair a mess from your doing, his lips full and he looks so beautiful in this post lustrous haze.

“N-no. I’m fine, I promise. I just— I can’t do this. I mean I want to, trust me I do. But it feels wrong.” You close your eyes and let out a deep sigh, leaning forward to rest your forehead on Dave’s. “You’re still technically married and I’m no better than Carol if we let this continue with where this was headed.”

You can feel Dave nod in agreement before he pulls away, a brief kiss to your temple before he’s helping you off the counter and righting your clothes.

Your heart sinks at how quiet he is when he walks you to your car, you’re not sure what to say or how to feel.

You want to kiss him one last time, fearing this is it for the both of you, but you opt for a hug instead. His arms holding you close, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, breathing you in one last time.

“Good night Dave.” Emotions high but you do your best to keep them hidden until you’re in the safety of your car.

“Night.” A subtle nod to you as you approach your car.

The drive home is bleak, ending a long time friendship and then turning down the man you’ve been in love with can conjure up a lot of emotions.

Time will tell whether you made the right decision.

*

Several Months Later…

Your work life has been hectic to say the least. But it’s kept your mind busy following that evening at the York’s house.

You hadn’t heard from Carol since that night, and you can only assume she thinks you told Dave which prompted his filing for divorce.

You wish you could say you were sad to lose your friend, but the truth is you feel lighter with out her in your life. You didn’t realize how miserable you were and how much she had made you feel unworthy of so many things in your life.

It felt like a blessing in disguise.

Then there was Dave. You hadn’t seen him either since leaving his home. You’d replayed that evening in the kitchen over and over again, which made you long for more than you should have. You’d both let feelings get in the way of what was right, but it didn’t mean you couldn’t wish things were different.

You think of him often as you go about your days and hope he’s doing well.

“Hi, what can I get you.” The sweet barista asks as you walk up to the counter in your neighborhood coffee shop.

“I’ll take a Latte with an extra shot and an everything bagel, to go please.” You have a few meetings today, so you need as much energy as possible.

“That’ll be $10.50.”

You begin to dig out your wallet to pay, only to realize you’d forgotten your wallet at home on the counter where you were paying bills last night.

“Shit! I—I forgot my wallet at home. I’m sorry, you can cancel—“

“Here. You can add it to my order.” A stranger with an oddly familiar voice steps up and hands the barista his credit card. “I’ll take an Americano and the same bagel order.”

As you go to thank the man for the kind gesture, you realize that this stranger is not in fact a stranger.

“Dave?”

“Hey!” His smile seems brighter and more relaxed. “How are you?”

“I’m— I’ve been good. How have you been?” You stammer over your words a bit, he was the last person you were expecting to see this morning.

“Can’t complain really. Work is, work and being a single divorcee isn’t all that bad.”

“Hmm. Single?” You try to contain yourself, but you’re just slightly giddy at his singleness.

“Yeah. Officially for about a month.”

“Congratulations— I think.” That makes him laugh.

“Thanks. Hey, do you want to sit for a bit.” Pointing over to an open table. “If you have time, I don’t want to interrupt your day.”

You glance down at your watch, your first meeting isn’t for 2 hours. You smile, grateful for your scheduling for the day.

“Yeah. I have plenty of time.”

#Dave York #dave york x female reader #dave york x f!reader #dave york x you #pedro pascal #wildemaven writes

[scrixtcn]

diamonds in the sky

genre: sugar daddy/ceo!au | strangers to lovers!au | equal amounts of fluff and complicated not quite angst but angsty feelings

pairing: choi seungcheol x reader 

word count: 12.2k

a/n: coups is sweet and caring but also is perfectly able to throw money at his problems for them to not be problems anymore. also him in any kind of suit kills me. 

You knew this would be another one of those nights.

“This way, darlings,” the hotel manager whistles while ushering you and three other girls out of the elevator. “They won’t wait, you know.”

At the very top of the building is the hotel bar, a rather infamous location frequented by the rich and elite 1%. Word on the street had the Starlight bar as the coveted meetup for all sorts of transactions—both shady and open market deals between those seeking and those offering their “services” for a price. You belonged to the unfortunate latter, one slip-up in the contract signing you off as a female escort rather than the aspiring model that had been advertised in the agency’s flyers.

“Can I borrow some lipstick?”

You dig through your silver clutch, coming up empty-handed at hearing your fellow escort/best friend’s inquiry.

“Sorry, Hana, I don’t have any on me.”

The girl on the right hands over hers, and you stifle a giggle at the orange shade that doesn’t fit Hana’s look at all.

“Hana,” you begin slowly, holding out a compact mirror, “You might want to look at yourself before going in.”

She glances at the reflection and screams, the shrill sound startling even the manager. He turns around from his conversation at the bar counter, wondering if everything is alright. Not wanting to start a fuss, Hana nods furiously and tugs you aside, giving dirty glares to the one who offered her the disastrous tube of lipstick in the first place.

“Please tell me you have something—anything—in your bag to save my lips.”

“Well…” You look again and settle on a pack of tissues and clear lip gloss. “Maybe you can wipe it off?”

Letting out a low growl, she takes you on the offer and excuses herself from the group to freshen up in the bathroom. Left alone with the other two girls, you shrug off the questions on Hana’s outburst with an apologetic smile. No need to offer more than necessary to girls you probably wouldn’t ever see again.

Once the bartender announces that the guests in the private rooms are ready and waiting, you start to follow the others, only to be held back by a firm hand.

“One of the clients is arriving late,” the manager informs you, “Can you go to the 3rd floor instead?”

You frown. “This wasn’t what was paid for.

“And why me? Why me and not them?”

“You were handpicked,” the manager answers, giving you a once-over. “Y/N, right? He said you’d be wearing a black off-shoulder dress with frills?”

The exact description of your outfit brings bitterness to your tongue. There was only one person who knew exactly what you’d be wearing tonight—the guy who had gifted you the dress during one of your nights with him the week before.

“Fine,” you grumble, “But tell Jeonghan he owes me double from what he usually pays.”

—

Yoon Jeonghan was a snake if you ever saw one.

You were never able to pinpoint why he was so infatuated with you, always eager to see you whenever your paths crossed during your other “work events”. There were times when he even called the agency to specifically ask for your company, earning yourself the title as “Jeonghan’s favorite” amongst your colleagues. Maybe he did like spending time with you. Or maybe… maybe he just wanted a new toy to play with after he got bored with his other girlies.

As expected, Jeonghan extends his arms for a hug the moment you get out of the elevator to the 3rd floor, a gesture you purposely avoid to show your displeasure at being pulled aside from the group call you had agreed to.

“Who stepped on your tail?” he asks coyly, giving a mock bow to kiss your hand. “Love the dress, by the way.”

“I didn’t know you’d be here tonight,” you answer crisply, “Let alone pull me aside to cater to whatever scheme you’re plotting right now.”

He laughs, a devilish sound like you just stumbled right into his clutches. “Everything will play out as it always does.”

A card key is tossed your direction before you can press on for more details.

“I need you to keep a look out for my friend. He’s staying in this room.”

You catch it before it falls to the floor and study the card. VIP Suite. Not an ordinary person by the looks of it.

“Why me?”

“Believe it or not, I don’t trust anyone else but you.”

Hearing Jeonghan mention trust brings an unexpected cackle from your throat. Since when was the devil trustworthy?

“I’m serious,” he repeats, turning tail and holding up a hand. “Take good care of him, sweetheart.”

“Wait, I don’t even know how he looks like!”

You watch as Jeonghan leaves, his figure growing smaller and smaller down the hallway. With a huff, you walk down the hall, stopping once you locate the correct room. One swipe of the card key and you find yourself stepping into the biggest space you’d ever seen at Starlight. The room not one of your caliber can easily enter, you find yourself frozen in place until you remember what Jeonghan had said before he left.

I need you to keep a lookout for my friend.

Shaking off your shoes, you step barefoot onto the carpet and wiggle your toes in excitement at exploring the space. Jeonghan never said you couldn’t look around while waiting for his friend.

“Whoa…” There is a whole separate hallway linking to the bathroom and bedroom, the entire suite no different than a service apartment targeted for long term stay. Obviously, luxury took precedent—even the sliding glass doors leading to the outdoor Jacuzzi are shined to perfection, the lights catching glimmers in contrast to the slowly darkening sky. Stepping back inside, you pranced around the open kitchen, where there’s a small stove for cooking next to the fridge.

“Well equipped.”

Midway into digging through the fridge for a bite to eat, you hear the door click open and startle, bumping your head atop the inner ceiling of the icebox.

“Who are you?”

Shuffling backwards, you shake your head and meet the dazed eyes of a drunken man. Tie in hand, his shirt is unbuttoned and to be honest, you weren’t expecting one of Jeonghan’s friends to look so slovenly at the first meeting.

“Hi, I’m—”

His chest heaves, and you have the shock of your life when he throws up directly onto the carpet and the conveniently placed heels you had taken off to freely explore his suite.  

God dammit.

—

Seungcheol doesn’t remember a thing when he opens his eyes the next morning, yawning as he sits up in bed. There had been drinks sure, but the exact amount remains a mystery after blacking out last night. How he made it back to the hotel was also a story for another day when he sees the cheerful grin of his friend sitting directly next to.

“You were quite a mess last night,” Jeonghan snickers, handing over a glass of water. “I didn’t know you had it in you to drink so much.”

“I…” Taking the water, he drinks and a flickering memory surfaces in his mind.

“Was there someone else here?”

Jeonghan chuckles. “You really don’t remember what you did to her last night?”

“What do you mean?” Panic settles in his throat and he immediately puts down the glass, grabbing Jeonghan by the shoulders. “What… What did I do?”

“You…” Jeonghan breaks into laughter mid-explanation. “You threw up all over my friend’s shoes, that’s what.”

Oh, shit.

—

Hana hadn’t stopped laughing once she heard about your unfortunate night, irritating you to no end when she brings it up again during weekend brunch with her sister.

“So Y/N goes down to the guy’s suite,” Hana reiterates, waving her fork in the process, “Looking around, and the guy just throws up once he’s inside. All over her shoes, too!”

“I swear, I will knock your mimosa onto the floor if you bring it up again.”

Unfazed by your empty threat, she shifts her glass to the other side and mimics throwing up, an all-inclusive experience with sounds of vomiting and contortions of her face in disgust. Her sister tries to keep a straight face, but you can see the giggles already starting to break through from the tightened lips.

“Okay, laugh,” you sigh, giving in to the inevitable. “Poke fun at my misery after having to walk home in wet and smelly heels.”

Giggles echo around the table, catching the attention of the other guests at the restaurant. You pick up your cutlery knife and angrily cut apart the omelet on the plate, mutilating the yellow pillow of egg with other meats and veggies tucked inside.

“it’s just so funny,” Hana snickers, letting out the last laughs before taking a deep breath and making a zipping motion over her lips. “That’s it, I promise.”

Her sister does the same, promising to leave it at that.

“Did you manage to get his number at least?”

You shake your head. “He was out like a snuffed candle after he finished throwing up all over the floor. I had to call room service and make sure they put it on his tab before I left.”

“That’s unfortunate.” Hana exchanges a glance with her sister and her sister proceeds to take out a business card, sliding it over to you. “Which is why I had my sister get it for you!”

“Huh?”

Her sister pushes up the glasses rested on the bridge of her nose. “I asked my journalist friends and they told me it’s him.”

You pick up the business card and read the name printed in black font.

“Choi… Seungcheol?”

“He’s the CEO of the hotel chain that Starlight is under,” your friend’s sister continues, “Quite a big name, so there’s always someone keeping tabs on him.”

“You should give him a call,” Hana insists, “Get compensation for your shoes, at the very least.”

“I don’t know…” You fold up the business card and stuff it in your purse. “I’d rather not get reminded about what he did.”

“It’s only right he gives you back a new pair of shoes!”

Your phone rings before you can offer a rebuttal, it being no other than the guy who had gotten you into such a mess from the start. You accept the call and hold the phone close to your ear, not giving the sisters a chance to eavesdrop.

“Hi, Jeonghan.”

“Are you free?” his voice chirps through the speaker. “My friend said he wants to apologize for last night.”

“I…” You stand up from your seat, mouthing goodbye to your friends while walking to a quieter spot to answer his call.

“I don’t really want to see him, if I’m being honest.”

Jeonghan whines at your hesitation. “He really feels bad and wants to make it up to you, sweetheart.”

“If anything, you should be the one to make it up to me!” you snap, voice raising outside the restaurant doors. “If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t—”

“Fine,” he relinquishes, “It’s my fault and I’ll pay triple if you go meet with him. Do it for me, please?”

Mention of the extra pay tickles your taste buds, but you push down the thought with a huff. He takes it as agreement and blows kisses from his end, offering to send his limousine to pick you up after asking for your current whereabouts. He was always like this, agreeing to anything and everything if things went his way. You didn’t like being pulled along to his whims, but didn’t want to take advantage of his kindness to you either.

The limousine pulls up in a matter of minutes, quicker than you expected. Perhaps he had been in the area, the driver offering a quick bow once he recognizes it’s you he’s picking up.

“Young Master Jeonghan said to drop you off at Starlight, miss?”

“Wherever he said to go, that’s where I’m going,” you reply, making yourself comfortable in the back. “He didn’t tell me where.”

“Understood.” He hops back into the driver’s seat and shifts gear. “We will be at Starlight shortly.”

—

“Hey.”

It’s strange how you know which table to go to once you arrive at the Starlight bar, the lone figure before the dry martini somehow pulling at your heartstrings as you slide into the seat next to.

“Do you… remember me?”

He looks up, and you nearly have a double take. This Choi Seungcheol looked nothing like yesterday’s drunken state. Today he is soberly dressed in a dark pinstripe suit, hair slicked back. The silver ring on his pinky knocks against the counter as he taps his hand on the surface, gesturing for the bartender. He proceeds to order a shot of tequila—Jeonghan must have told him your usual go-to drink before you arrived.

“No,” he admits, “But Jeonghan said I threw up all over your shoes?”

The memory brings back unpleasant thoughts. Panic at his passed-out figure by the door after he finished vomiting, frantic calls to room service and emphasizing for them to put the service charge on his tab…

He notices the grimace on your face and apologizes again. 

“I’m terribly sorry you had to clean up my mess.”

You wave it off, nodding in thanks to the bartender who brings over the shot of tequila.

“It’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” he presses on, lifting the martini and consuming half the cocktail in one long sip. “I can make it up to you.”

“It’s just a pair of shoes, no big deal.

“Another shot of tequila, please.”

The bartender holds up an ‘OK’, which makes you smile and you spin to face Seungcheol.

“If you want to make it up to me, Mister Choi, can you treat me to another round of drinks?”

He does a double take at hearing his name, garnering a chuckle from your parted lips.

“It’s not hard to get information about someone as well-known as you.”

Seungcheol cracks a smile at your words. “I didn’t know I was so popular.”

The second shot of tequila makes its way before you, accompanying it a second martini for Seungcheol courtesy of the bartender.

“Cheers? You’re forgiven for throwing up on my shoes, Mister Choi Seungcheol.”

“Just call me Seungcheol,” he laughs, a hearty sound that echoes warmly across the bar when the glasses clink. “But really, this won’t do when I ruined your shoes.”

“Hmm… I can’t think of anything now, so l’ll take a rain check on your offer.”

“Then I’ll have Jeonghan give you my number. That way, you can call me once you decide how you want me to make it up to you.”

◇

You never did call Seungcheol to cash in on his offer, not one to insist on compensation for something as trivial as ruined shoes. Vomiting happened when people drank a bit too much. It wasn’t like those shoes were valuable or even held any sentimental value (they were gifted by a former colleague after she left to sign to a rival agency with better pay and benefits).

Jeonghan had pestered you for a week asking why you never contacted his friend, but you held your ground and purposely ignored his calls whenever he asked about you contacting Seungcheol, rendering you going without pay that week due to not seeing him. Curse the clause in your contract that stated you had to attend individual calls at least three times a week or else pay from group calls would be forfeited entirely to the agency.

“How much longer are you going to play hooky?”

Hana stands by the desk in your room with a bag of chips in hand, digging into the bag while waiting for your response. Crumbs trickle onto the floor and you get up from bed, shooing her out to stand by the door if she had to eat while talking.

“You’re sweeping these up yourself if you take one more step forward while eating your chips.”

She rolls her eyes and reaches for another chip. “You heard me, missy. No pay means no rent. No rent means you and I are going to have to sleep on the streets.”

“I know,” you enunciate, crossing your arms in distaste. “I’ll figure something out before the end of the month.”

“I’m holding you to it,” Hana declares, flicking a chip crumb your direction. “You said you’d figure it out.”

“Get out before I hand you the broom to sweep up my room.”

Once she leaves, you close the door and sigh. The end of the month was coming up in three days’ time. You’re sure Hana isn't the type to save either, so likely you’d have to cover her share (or part of it) as you usually do. Her big spending always end in maxed out credit cards every month, an amount not even help from her sister can cover to pay in full as you liked.

Jeonghan usually more than willing to offer financial assistance, your latest cold war with him had turned him to call for other girls to accompany him to parties or other work events. No way in hell were you going to ask him for help.

Perhaps…

—

“Welcome to Andromeda, do you have an appointment?”

You swallow nervously at seeing the crisp beige wallpaper and red sofas lined around the corners for those waiting to see the CEO to sit at. Everything screamed precision and order, two things you never had in your line of work as an escort. Even the receptionist’s white blouse and black pencil skirt were neater than the scuffed blue denim dress you picked out of your closet just an hour prior.

Talk about two different worlds.

“I… I do,” you lie, crossing your hands behind your back. “Can you tell Seung… Mister Choi he owes me a new pair of shoes?”

The receptionist looks up at you from her computer and you put on your best smile.

“Please? Your boss will understand.”

If there is the slightest sigh from her parted lips, you miss it, digging your nails into your palms as she picks up the telephone and dials into his office. To your delight, she hangs up and proceeds to gesture for you to enter. You nod in thanks and uncross your hands; the nail marks leaving indents on the skin, you quickly rub your palms to soothe your frantic nerves and push open the doors.

Seungcheol looks up from his desk and blinks twice at seeing you in person. A rare sight that has him standing up, mouth widening to a grin when he recognizes you.

“I was wondering who it was that I owed a pair of shoes.”

You smile and take a seat. “I’m glad you still remember.”

“What’s the occasion?” he asks, sitting back down and sliding his documents and files aside. “You could’ve texted me; you have my business card.”

“Can you lend me some money?”

Straight to the point, it catches him off guard and he asks you to repeat it to make sure he heard it right the first time. You reiterate the request for a loan and watch carefully as he leans back in his chair.

“What’s it for?”

“Rent,” you begin slowly, “I have three days before the end of the month when it’s due. And…”

“And?”

“I really can’t think of anyone else to help me but you, Seungcheol.”

His face is expressionless, and you continue in hopes to move him enough to lend a helping hand.

“I’m sorry if me coming here unannounced was rude. Really, I… Jeonghan’s been annoying me and I’ve been ignoring his calls because all he does is ask if I had you compensate me for ruining my shoes that night. In… In my—”

You flourish a hand around the phrase ‘line of work’. “In my line of work, there’s a clause with my agency that states escorts have to take individual calls at least three times a week or else pay is turned over entirely to the management company. I haven’t been paid in the last two weeks and you’re the only one who can help me this time.”

The silence in his office is overbearing, so thick in the air that you nearly make a notion to get up and open the windows until he breaks the silence himself.

“You’ve been ignoring Jeonghan’s calls?”

“Y-Yeah,” you mumble, taking out your phone to show him the call history. “Even have his number blocked.”  

The tiniest snort breaks way into a full bout of warm laughter, the same laughter that tickled your insides from your first meeting with him at the Starlight bar. Clearly he is amused by your answer, even delighted at the fact that you’d been ignoring Jeonghan.

“No wonder he’s been sulky,” Seungcheol chuckles. “All because his favorite escort girl wasn’t answering his calls.”

Still laughing to himself, he reaches into one of the drawers and takes out a checkbook. You watch as he grabs a pen from the container on his desk and scribbles an amount onto one of the checks, tearing it out and handing it over once he signs off on it.

“I hope this is enough?”

You glance over the amount written at the top right and hold back a gasp. It was more than enough. Enough to pay for the next three months, enough to pay off Hana’s credit card bill overdue from last month, enough to even treat yourself to some new dresses to wear to work after subtracting the necessary expenses first.

“I…”

“Do you need more?”

“No,” you blurt out, reaching your hand out to take away his container of pens. “It’s… It’s too much.”

An arched eyebrow and his curious gaze pierces straight through you; you fidget a little but proceed to reaffirm your stance on his check.

“It’s too much. I only need enough to pay for this month’s rent.”

“Then consider the rest my compensation for a new pair of shoes.” He gestures to his pens and you quickly hand them back, embarrassed by your rash behavior to someone kind enough to lend money for your troubles.  

Picking up the fallen check from across the desk, Seungcheol stands up, offering the much-needed money to you again.

“This check is yours. Even has your name on it and everything.”

Hesitant fingers eventually grab hold of the check and tuck the slip carefully into your cross-body bag. Taking a deep breath, you bow in thanks and he hurriedly makes his way around to hold your hands.

“No, no, don’t do that,” he blubbers, panic settling in his eyes. “I-I didn’t mean to sound mean, really—”

“You’re very kind, Seungcheol.” Rubbing at your eyes, the budding tears of gratitude are flicked away and your lips widen to a grin that uproots the tension and anxiety about making ends meet. “I’m glad I blocked Jeonghan’s number on my phone.”

He laughs at your remark. “Well, it’s not every day I see him sulk and get flustered, so it was worth every penny.

“Are you free tonight, by the way?”

The question catches you by surprise. “Tonight?”

“For dinner,” he explains, “To celebrate being able to pay rent for next month.”

“You want to treat me to dinner with more of your money?”

“Sorry,” you wince, taking a step back, “I didn’t intend to sound so… harsh.”

Seungcheol shakes his head. The hint of the smallest smile dances around the corner of his lips, one that carries a bit more than amusement and awe at your sharp words.

“It’s fine. It means you have nothing to hide from me.

“So dinner at 7pm tonight?”

You nod, tucking the memory of the smile to the back of your mind.

“I’d love to.”

—

Dinner with Seungcheol didn’t just happen that one night, but for (surprisingly) many more consecutive nights. You might have already sampled every single high-end restaurant featured in the local magazines at this rate, candlelight dinners in the presence of one of the richest men in the city with complimentary wine and dessert. Seungcheol also had a habit of greeting you with a gift each time he picked you up from work, the gesture bordering on more than mere friendliness whenever you consulted Hana about it.

“He likes you,” she had said in the simplest explanatory manner, “Maybe he even sees himself as a sugar daddy of some sort to you.”

The term eliciting a nose scrunch and firm shake of your head, you firmly tell yourself that cannot be. Surely it’s anything but that when you technically still owed him money. Why would he want to spend time (and more money) on someone indebted to him?

—

“Bestie, your boo’s calling.”

You look up from the dresser, lipstick in hand. “Who?”

“The one and only Yoon Jeonghan, that’s who.”

Capping the lipstick, you get up and head out to the living room. Hana gestures to the phone still ringing on the coffee table, two pieces of chips in between her manicured fingers. Scooting past her, you scan the screen and a pang of disappointment tickles your bones when you see it really is Jeonghan calling and not someone else.

“Hello?”

“Finally remembered to unblock my number?”

His crisp tone does little to faze you. 

“Should I re-enter it to my block list?”

“Well, no.” There’s sniffling on his end, and you overhear a distant sneeze. “I was just checking to see if you really unblocked me like Cheol said you did.”

Tingles tickle your stomach at hearing Seungcheol’s name, but you push it down with a huff.

“You know I’m a woman of my word, Jeonghan.”

“I do. Which is why I’d like you to go out to buy some soup for me right now.”

“What?” You check the time on your phone and it’s already 7:15pm. “I can’t get soup for you. Me and Hana are having a girls’ night out today.”

“Please. You’re the only one who can do this for me.”

“Jeonghan, can’t you just—”

His voice is muffled, and you catch the tail ends of a cough when he resumes speaking into the phone.

“I would stay here to take care of him, but there is a dinner I absolutely cannot miss out on, sweetheart.” Desperation laced in his pleas, Jeonghan’s voice is muffled again and you stand stumped at the cutoffs in the conversation. The phone call then ends altogether, leaving you even more confused when the entire thing sounded like an emergency.

“What the fuck?”

Your phone then pings with an incoming text, complete with pictures of a bedridden Seungcheol next to a mountain of used tissues and the address to deliver the soup to once you bought it.

“Hana,” you begin once you tuck your phone into the back pocket of your jeans. “I can’t go with you tonight. One of my friends is sick.”

◇

You will never forget the look of relief on Jeonghan’s face when he opens the door to Seungcheol’s VIP Suite at Hotel Celestia, a Choi establishment on the other side of the city.  

“Thank god you’re here,” he sighs, rummaging into his wallet and taking out two of his credit cards. “Use these if you need anything else.”

Gone before you can even say goodbye, you hold up a hand and wave anyway, closing the door. The lights are on the dimmest setting once you step in, the choice to keep your shoes on a firm one after the fiasco from your first meeting. This time, the suite didn’t hold the luxurious feel it should’ve had for a hotel suite, but rather an emptiness at the lack of another presence besides the coughing heard from around the corner.

“Seungcheol?”

Around the corner, you spot the mountain of used tissues on the floor and see him bundled up in bed. Picking your way through, you set down the container of soup on whatever space is left on the nightstand and slowly place a hand on his forehead.

“You’re burning up.”

Somehow you take on the role of a nurse for the remainder of the evening, shuffling from the kitchen to heat up the soup to the bathroom and back after cleaning up the tissue mountain and messy bedroom. Washing your hands diligently after touching all the germs, you pull up a chair and take off the towel on his forehead, feeling his temperature again.

“Not as hot as before.”

As quietly as possible, you lean forward and tap him on the shoulder. Seungcheol stirs, eyes barely open when he feels your touch.

“Jeonghan called me over,” you explain, “I brought some soup, you should—”

He mumbles something you fail to catch, and when he repeats it you realize he’s not calling for you in his feverish state.

Who is he asking for?

Seungcheol blinks, and he quickly shakes his head when he notices you sitting before him.

“H-Hi.”

You offer a wave and gesture at the now-cold soup.

“For you. Courtesy of Jeonghan.”

He nods and you hand over the container of soup, which he drinks straight out of in large gulps.

“T…Thanks.”

Taking the empty container, you nod and set it down before speaking.

“You still have a bit of a temperature, but it’s a lot better than before.”

His eyes more energetic than earlier, Seungcheol shakes his head and looks at you with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry you had to… see me like this.”

You cross your legs and fiddle with your fingers, the unknown name bugging your mind. To ask or not to ask, especially when he is unwell.

“Did… Did you eat?”

“Sorry,” you blurt out, standing up from the chair. “I… I have to go.”

“So soon?”

“Yeah, I…” Without looking at him, you grab your purse and hurriedly wave, not catching the last bit as you take your leave.

—

“Rent’s due again, bestie.”

You gesture at the envelope sitting on your desk. “Give that to the landlord when you see him later.”

Hana skips towards your desk and picks up the envelope. A low whistle twinkles through the room at the stack of bills nestled inside.

“You got this from Seungcheol?”

“Jeonghan,” you correct her, “I asked him for a favor and that’s what he gave me.”

“I thought Seungcheol was your new sugar daddy now.”

Picking up a pillow from your spot on the bed, you throw it at her and she quickly dodges.

“What did I say wrong now??”

“He’s just a friend,” you mutter, digging deeper into the covers. “Nothing more.”

“Girl, he was taking you out to dinner every night and getting you all those exquisite gifts. I don’t think that’s something a regular friend would do.”

Poking your head out, you let out a guttural scream and she leaves, closing the door behind her while taking the envelope. No longer in the mood to sleep, you kick the blankets off and sit up. Ever since his sick day, you’d been avoiding Seungcheol like the plague—ignoring his texts, purposely not picking up his calls, using Jeonghan as an excuse whenever he tried to ask you out on the off chance he crossed paths during your other calls. If Jeonghan had noticed you were playing the ghost card he didn’t show it, not one to pry when he was back on your good graces.

A vibration buzzes from your nightstand and you reach over a hand; panic lights up in your eyes when you see the caller id. The phone rings for two more times, then buzzes again, this time from your roommate.

“What is it, Hana?”

“Can you come out here? There’s someone here to see you.”

“Wait, who in the—” You hurriedly get out of bed and change to a set of more presentable clothes. Fixing your hair, you brush out any knots and rush out.

“Is the landlord here early, I saw you take the money…”

Your words fade when you see who is standing next to Hana in the living room.

“I’m sorry,” she mouths, holding up two envelopes (the second one equally as thick as the one she took for rent). “He said I can have another envelope of the same amount if I can get you out of your room.”

She scurries away before you can scold her for taking bribes and you sigh, a deep breath echoing across the four walls. 

“Why are you here?”

Seungcheol adjusts the collar of his white silk shirt. “You wouldn’t take my calls.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Busy enough to ghost me but free to spend time with Jeonghan?”

The barb in his words is prickly, and you take a step back when he moves forward.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” you murmur, unable to look him in the eye. “I mean, technically no.”

The gentlest of touches rests on your face and you muster the courage to look at him. Concern pools in his eyes as he studies your silence, lips contorted to a frown.

“You can tell me,” he reassures you. “You know I’ve never said no to you.”

The kindness unusually sharp, it digs into your heart and you wince at hearing his words.

“You need to leave.” Pushing him aside, you walk to open the front door and look away. “I can’t do this today, Seungcheol.”

“Wait, but—”

“Please.” You stand your ground. “You need to leave.”

He gives in, head low as he takes his exit. Once he fully passes through the threshold between your apartment and the hall, you slam the door shut and slump to the ground. You didn’t know why you were so frustrated at him over a name. This angry curiosity you’ve been carrying around since that day…

Not jealousy, no. But it festers like an untended wound, threatening to consume your insides the longer you leave it unchecked.

“God, this fucking sucks.”

◇

“Cheol brought these for you.”

You gloss over the Celine handbags, trying hard to not stare at the vintage pink one that had been out-of-stock for weeks. You mentioned it to Seungcheol once as an off-handed comment when he took you to the store to get you a gift, wistfully staring at the empty rack when the saleslady regretfully informed him they were out of that color for the bag. He promised to keep an eye out for it and apparently had taken it to heart, finally managing to get the pink one you wanted so long ago.  

“The smaller leather ones are very you,” Jeonghan muses, holding up each one in curiosity. “He knows your taste.”

“I don’t like this brand anymore,” you lie, shaking your head when he offers them your way. “Give them to your other girlfriends.”

He waves his hand, and one of his household staff comes forward to take away all the handbags.

“You know I’ll only keep them here until you’re in the mood to take them home.”

Glaring at his cheekiness, you scowl and he slings an arm over your shoulders.

“What did Cheol do this time to mess up your pretty smile?”

“He… You remember the day he got sick?”

“Yeah.”

“He… He was calling for someone else. It was a girl’s name, but I didn’t recognize it.”  

“…Then he still hasn’t forgotten about her.”

Jeonghan notices your tense posture and sighs.

“It’s not my story to tell.”

“But,” you begin, unable to hide the tremor in your voice. “But… Don’t you know a little… a little bit? Can’t you tell me a little bit?”

“I can’t.” Jeonghan releases his hold on you and stands up. “It’s really not my story to tell.”

Not even the puppy-dog eyes that usually worked wonders proves effective in prying open Jeonghan’s mouth, rendering you hopeless while pouting on the couch. He notices and takes your hand, pulling you up from your seat and squeezing your fingers for reassurance.

“Come on, I’ll treat you to dessert instead.”

“I don’t want it.”

“Not even matcha crepe cake? It’s the newest flavor at the dessert place you like so much.”

Unable to resist, you accept his hand and follow him out.

“Fine, but you’re paying.”

—

Maybe deep down you’d already known a man like Seungcheol would have a story to tell. A story he kept hidden from his closest friends, one he keeps close to his heart with vulnerabilities he has only shared with one other person.

You knew you weren’t that person, yet you couldn’t help but want to be the more you ruminated over the mysterious name. The her he clearly still wanted to see again despite their extremely publicized breakup. She, who moved on and was now married to the heir of one of the richest real estate firms in the country. The paparazzi periodically did feature spreads on whatever snippets they managed to snap of the couple’s private life: brunches, cocktail parties, pool fun, outings with their two children, etc. They looked happy, smiles all around.  

He had been happy for her. When you first brought up the magazine to him after doing your own research on the matter, you hadn’t caught the look of wistfulness in his eyes then, but now…

Now it made sense. The silence, diverted glances, abrupt changes in topic, it all now made sense.

“What’s on your mind, sweetheart?”

Startled, you turn your head and find yourself not at home, but in a private room at the Starlight bar. Just short of knocking the cocktail glass off your neighbor’s hand, apologies trickle from your parted lips and he chuckles.

“Jeonghan, you didn’t tell me she’s the airhead type.”

“She’s usually not,” Jeonghan muses, waving a hand in front of your face. “What are you thinking about?”

Ignoring his prying, you turn to his friend and offer another wave of apologies, raising your own glass of water.

“Buy her a drink, Joshua,” Jeonghan nags, “It’s the least you can do for taking my favorite girl away from me.”

“No, it’s okay,” you blurt out, not in the mood to drink tonight. “I’m not—”

“She doesn’t want a drink,” Joshua retorts, swinging an arm around your shoulder. “I’ll keep her company while—”

The door to the private room squeaks open, interrupting Joshua mid-sentence. You look up and freeze, not expecting to see Seungcheol of all people standing by the entryway. Jeonghan notices the growing tension and stands—ushering Seungcheol to sit—but Joshua is oblivious, grandiosely introducing you to his friend (whom he didn’t know you were already on very familiar terms with).

“She’s with me tonight,” Joshua smiles, closing the gap between you and him. “But she doesn’t seem to be warming up to me.”

Seungcheol turns to you with his eyebrows raised.

“Are you and Joshua together now?”  

It rubs you the wrong way, the way he asks the question. Why was he so quick to assume you already had somewhat of an intimate relationship with Joshua when you just met the guy today?

Jeonghan spots the fire in your gaze and extinguishes the flame with an interjected “No”, slapping Joshua’s arm off your shoulder and squeezing himself in the middle. One hand rests on your thigh, a comforting touch that helps in stilling the building anger and snappiness crawling up your throat to be spat out.

“Sorry, she’s with me actually,” Jeonghan smiles, “I’ve been booking her consistently since—you know—since you stopped asking for her.”

“Wait, she’s not—”

Joshua holds his tongue after seeing the sharp glance from Jeonghan, promising to call you again as he excuses himself to leave the tense atmosphere in the room. The trio of you, Seungcheol, and Jeonghan now alone, Jeonghan is the first to break the silence.

“I’m going to let you and Cheol have some time to sort out your problems,” he says to you, standing up and shaking his head when you tug at his sleeve for him to stay. “Call me when you’re done.”

You throw a glare at him, one that Seungcheol overlooks as he bids goodbye to Jeonghan.

Not liking the situation one bit, you reach for Joshua’s glass and down the margarita in one go, the burn in your throat akin to liquid courage for the upcoming confrontation.

“You scared off both my clients,” you begin with a huff. “Just because you’re also rich like them doesn’t mean—”

“Then I’ll pay triple for tonight,” The words slide off Seungcheol’s mouth smooth as honey. “You won’t be missing out on the two of them when I can pay for their share as well as mine.”

He scoots closer while you instinctively slide to the left. The gesture brings a scowl to his face and your hands curl into fists.

“I do not appreciate being bought out like that, Mister Choi.”

“I didn’t…” He licks his lips. “You were the one who kept avoiding me!”

“I wasn’t avoiding you,” you lie, angling your body away. “My schedule has been fully booked each time you reached out.”

A heavy sigh leaves his mouth. Clearly he picked up on the fact that you weren’t going to make this easy for him.

“Can you at least tell me when you’ll have more free time to meet with me?”

“I don’t know what I am to you, Seungcheol.”

He pauses, clasping his hands together and resting them on his knees.

“Care to explain why you think that way?”

You bite your lips, glancing back at him. He is as patient as ever while waiting for you to answer, and that is when you knew you had to come clean for your own sake if not his own.

“I… Who was it you were calling for that night you were sick?”

It’s funny how you can practically see the gears turning his brain, Seungcheol practically an open book to everyone around him. Never one to keep secrets (or someone able to keep a secret), but clearly even those who are usually open books have their own share of hidden chapters within the pages.

“I didn’t know,” he begins carefully, eyes downcast. “I didn’t know Jeonghan had called you to stop by.”

“Are you still thinking of her?”

“…No. She is happily married now.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything the first time?”

He tears his gaze away from the floor, fingers digging into his knuckles as tears pool in his eyes.

“Because I’m scared you won’t believe me when I say I feel nothing for her anymore. I’m scared of how much I don’t want to lose you when I realized I was starting to fall in love again.”

—

Much to Jeonghan’s disappointment, you had gone home with Seungcheol that night, his hand ever so tightly grasping yours while leaving Starlight. Making sure to let your roommate/best friend know of your whereabouts, you send her a quick text that you’d be staying at Seungcheol’s place and she all but replies back with a “:P”. No doubt her dirty mind expected more than just a good night’s sleep.

Nothing happened that was out of your expectations: an offer for a fresh change of clothes, shower, a late midnight snack (he had virtually nothing in his fridge but you weren’t hungry anyway), and sleeping in his bed while he set up camp in his study. You sense he wanted to elaborate on where things had ended in the bar, from the constant side glances and hesitation at even touching your hand when he brings over a clean shirt and pair of gray sweatpants in exchange for the pink pleated mini dress you chose to meet Jeonghan and Joshua in. It’s one thing to hear him out, but another to recharge and clear your mind after such an eventful night with some space and well-needed sleep.

Sleep was minimal, perhaps the enormous size of his bed daunting and keeping you awake with the thought of him tucked away in his study. He looked no better (dark eye bags and large yawns) alongside the messy bedhead and nearly bumps into the bathroom door if you didn’t alert him after freshening up.

“Did you have a good sleep?”

You turn around from your seat by the open kitchen, mug of instant coffee in hand.  

“I slept…okay.”

Yawning, he nods at hearing your answer and shuffles towards the fridge. His hair still sticking up on all ends, you have half a notion to get up and run your fingers through his dark locks to smooth it out when hearty chuckles echo across the kitchen area.

“Something wrong?” you ask, getting up and placing down your mug of coffee by the sink.

“I…” Seungcheol turns to face you with a sheepish smile. “I have absolutely nothing in my fridge for you to eat.”

“That’s fine. Jeonghan actually bought me dinner before we went for drinks at Starlight.” You grab the mug and take another large sip. “Plus, I usually skip breakfast on weekends anyway. Coffee is enough.”

The refrigerator closes softly and Seungcheol holds up his hands in defeat.

“Guess I’ll wait until later to eat too, then.”

“What, no, that’s—” You usher him out of the kitchen and towards his room. “Go change.”

“Change?”

“Get changed,” you clarify, “I’ll treat you to breakfast.”

—

You knew fast food was the last thing on his mind when you pull Seungcheol into the McDonald’s at the corner of the street.

“What is this place?”

Your mouth drops. “Choi Seungcheol, are you telling me you have never been to a McDonald’s before in your entire life?”

He returns an awkward grin, interest reclaimed by the large screen for self-ordering.

“You just tap here and then click pay?”

The disbelief is thick in your voice as you mutter away while ordering two Big Macs and French fries, ignoring his murmurs of awe at all the choices available on the menu.

“What’s this one?”

You follow his finger at the Happy Meal. Of course, he would ask about that one.

“That one comes with a toy.”

His eyes light up at the mention of a toy, and you aren’t surprised when he taps to include one Happy Meal into the order. Refusing to let him pay, you beat him to it once the order is confirmed, delegating him the responsibility of finding a vacant table while you wait to pick up the food from the front. The wait is thankfully not too long, and you spot him sitting at one of the tables by the window while looking extremely out of place in his purple dress shirt and black slacks.

“Do you always dress so formally?” you speak up the moment you place down the tray of food. “Even for something as simple as eating fast food?”

“I didn’t know you’d be bringing me here,” he replies, tunnel vision for the red box containing the Happy Meal. “This is the one with the toy, right?”

You nod, hiding a scoff as you watch him tear into the box. His eyes shine at the sight of the blue toy car and its driver, excitement prickling in the surrounding air.

“Wow,” you marvel at the large shell and ferocious jaws of Bowser, the character Seungcheol received in his Happy Meal. “Of all the ones to get from the Mario franchise, you get the one that’s the evilest.”

The shock on his face catches you by surprise, and you can’t find it in you to tease him anymore when he looks devastated at the idea.

“I’m just playing, Bowser’s cool in his own way.”

“He’s going in my office,” Seungcheol murmurs, tucking the toy away into the front pocket of his slacks. “Keep me company during the day.”

“Suit yourself.”

He reaches hesitantly for one of the burgers and unwraps it. You watch his reaction and snort at the look of awe on his face as he takes one, two, three more subsequent bites. It was the first time you had seen anyone so excited over fast food—let alone something as trivial as McDonald’s.

“May I?”

He hovers a hand over the French fries and you hand him the entire container.

“Eat your heart away.”

He must not eat fast food often, judging from the glow in his eyes. The Big Mac demolished in seconds, now it is the French fries that are tossed into the cave that is his stomach. You can feel the curious gazes of those around your table and continue to pick at your own burger, small bites all throughout.

“That was delicious,” Seungcheol hums, leaving no crumb of potato behind. “I can’t believe I’ve never had this before.”

“Fast food is common for people like me,” you laugh, crumpling the wrapper once you’ve finished eating. “It’s not as exciting as you’re making it out to be.”

He follows you like a puppy when you get up and clear the table, tossing the trash and putting the tray away before opening the door for him. The passerby all stare at Seungcheol like he’s an alien, the formality in his outfit sticking out like a sore thumb especially from the entrance to a McDonald’s. You try to walk fast to not catch attention, but the sudden grip on your forearm catches you off guard and you pause.

“Yes?”

“I just wanted to make sure you’re still here.”

“People are staring,” you sigh, easing his hand off you and interlacing your fingers to his. “Let’s go before they start asking questions about what someone like you is doing near a McDonald’s.”

The walk somehow turns into a window shopping adventure, Seungcheol stopping every few feet to stare at stores that catch his eye. He pulls you in after him despite your protests, making a lap around but not buying anything like he usually does. Clothing, makeup, even the local coffee shop catches his attention like Christmas had come early this year. Each time you humor him by letting him pull you in, no different from the role of a parent monitoring an excited child.

It stings your heart when you realize he was having fun because he probably never had the opportunity for such simple pleasures in life. Eating fast food or window shopping were things of minimal priority to his daily schedule, not like meeting with important clients or managing an entire social hierarchy of employees and upper management as CEO to one of the largest hotel chains in the city. People always say the sky’s the limit, but right now it feels as though there is an astronomical distance between his world and your very own.

So how is it possible for the silver spoon that is Choi Seungcheol to fall in love with you, the dullest utensil in the tray?

—

It would be unfair to assume he wasn’t interested in you.

Nearly everyone said the same: he liked you, he loved you, he clearly saw you as more than a friend or even one of the girls he chose to spend money on. He didn’t act like a mere sugar daddy who dropped thousands on you without breaking a sweat. Seungcheol had pretty much confessed the night he caught you at Starlight, no Jeonghan for you to use a shield to deflect to.

“So do you like him or not?”

You roll your eyes at your roommate, unamused at her habit of barging in without knocking.

“Hana, do you want to take him off my hands instead?”

She wiggles her eyebrows. “I’m not against the idea, but ask anybody and they can see he only has eyes for you.”

Scoffing, you turn your attention back to the open closet and settle on a black mini dress with a contrasting white collar. The bow tie and sleeves adding just the right amount of elegance, you pick it up and show it to Hana, who wrinkles her nose at seeing your choice.

“It’s cute and all, but sleeves?”

“What would you pick?”

She eases herself into the array and sifts through. Fingers expertly parting each hanger, she snaps her fingers once she finds what she deems worthy to wear for the night: an off-shoulder red satin dress with a high slit.

“No,” you refuse, ignoring her objections. “It’s just a cocktail party.”

“Then you gotta look the part! Who goes to a cocktail party wearing something an office secretary would wear?”    

Against your protests, your roommate insists on her dress of choice, even to the point of placing herself directly in front of your closet door so you had to physically push her aside if you wanted to switch dresses. Knowing how stubborn she can be…

“Okay, I’ll stick with this one,” you sigh, holding up the red dress. “Black heels good?”

She nods in confirmation, giddiness taking over when she spots your makeup bag on the dresser.

“Can I do your makeup? You’ll catch everyone’s attention for sure once I’m done with you!”

“…Just don’t go too crazy.”

—

Sometimes you wish you weren’t so kind.

There was clearly a reason why your instinctively felt the urge to follow a monochromatic color scheme. The sea of black suits and white gowns said it all, yet here you are in a shade of red that stuck out like bloodstains on a clean towel.

Did she know ahead of time? Impossible when she hadn’t even been invited.

Was the universe out to get you? Most definitely.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

Looking up from your glass of champagne, you take the offered hand and squeeze. Jeonghan’s eyes widen, surprised at your iron grip.

“Hey, I’m not the one who didn’t follow the dress code.”

“I was coerced into wearing this,” you groan, throwing up your hands in defeat. “It wasn’t my idea.”

“Well, you look beautiful.”

“Thanks.”

Snorting at your half-hearted thank-you, Jeonghan offers a hand and you take it, comforted by his presence as he introduces you to the other guests. Not one to socialize much at these types of meet-and-greets between the elites, you plaster on the politest smile you can muster and let Jeonghan do all the talking.  Occasionally you hear your name mentioned and chime in a word or two, but anyone can see your mind wandering if they look closely, costing you your first mistake of the night when your fingers lose their grip on the half-empty champagne glass. The spilled liquid leaves a stain on your shoes, déjà vu eliciting a thin smile at the memory of walking home barefoot while holding a pair of smelly, vomit-clad heels.

“You okay?”

“Sorry, I…” You smile apologetically. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Go that way and then take another left at the corner.”

Apologizing again, you pick up your dress and quickly walk towards the left. Curiosity drips from the onlookers of the red dress flapping about, but luckily no one stops you on your way to the bathroom.

No one except…

“You’re here.”

Your brain comes up empty while trying to think of an excuse to get away from Seungcheol, and he offers an enthusiastic grin at seeing you at the party.

“Did you arrive with Jeonghan?”

“He sent his driver,” you answer, shuffling your feet anxiously. The sign to the ladies’ room is practically two leaps away. “Saw him just a few minutes ago actually.”

“I see.”

Before he can continue, you rush past him and nearly collapse onto the tiled floor once you enter the bathroom—sinks empty and stall doors open. Slamming your hands on one of the sink counters, you take a deep breath and catch sight of your winded reflection in the overhead mirror.  

“I look like shit.”

Checking to confirm the stalls are void of others, you give yourself a quick pep talk and take more deep breaths, steadily calming down before fixing your makeup. Another glance at the mirror, and you’re surprised to find Seungcheol still standing where you had left him once you leave the bathroom.

“You’re still here.”

He looks up from his phone, shoulders relaxing before tucking away the device.

“Wanted to see if you were okay when you practically sprinted in there.”

“I’m okay,” you hum, brushing off imaginary dust from your arms. “Just needed some air.”

Nodding, Seungcheol then extends an arm for you to hold.

“May I have this dance?”

You pause. Instinct tells you to pull back, but the earnest look in his eyes is too strong to resist. Slowly, you take his arm and the smile on his face practically lights up the entire room despite the dimmed glow of the ballroom fixtures. Dimmed lights, slowed music for a waltz, the ambiance almost rivals Cinderella’s first dance at the prince’s ball.

But you aren’t Cinderella, and you break away before the magic can end at midnight.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, shaking your head. “I—”

“Is it because of my ex?” Reaching into his back pocket, Seungcheol takes out his phone and taps on the screen, pulling up a text thread for you to see.

“I was just telling her I finally found someone I want to be with,” he continues, “She wished me good luck right before I asked you to dance.”

“Why me?” you sniffle, holding back the brimming tears in your eyes. “I’m… I’m just another escort.”

“You’ve always been honest with me. That’s more than what all the other girls could ever offer when I’m just another bank for them to extract money from.

“And you even showed me McDonald’s,” he adds with a hearty chuckle, “It was the first time someone has ever treated me to such a delicious meal.”

“Seungcheol, that’s—”

“I love you,” His voice drops to a whisper. “I love you for just being you.”

—

The heart knows what it wants. People can get muddled by what they see and what they hear, but the heart ultimately knows what it wants. And in trying to convince yourself otherwise, you had somehow gotten hold of Seungcheol’s heart before you knew you even wanted it.

“Can you please go see him?”

“I can’t.” You bury your face in your hands. “I don’t want to know how he thinks of me after I walked out on him like that.”

Hana rolls her eyes, not understanding your self-induced predicament. “The guy literally told you he loves you.”

“So? He’s someone who can have whatever he wants with a snap of his fingers when I’m just a—”

“Don’t you start calling yourself a nobody when you’re not.”

The remainder of your sentence falls short. Just like her to know exactly what you wanted to say.

“Enough about him, then,” she sighs, taking your hands and swinging them ever so slightly. “Are you certain you want to terminate your contract with the agency?”

“I really can’t do this anymore.” The risk of running into Seungcheol when you were contractually bound to serve others like him is too much for your mental health to withstand. Even though he was totally the type to fill your schedule exclusively for his company so others couldn’t book you, your conscience couldn’t live with the notion of him throwing even more money your way when you technically left him hanging after he confessed his love for you. “I’ll figure something out if things don’t go through, but I really need you to start budgeting and saving for the end of the month to pay for rent.”

“Okay, Mom, I won’t buy new clothes or bags when you have extras in your closet for me to borrow.”

Rolling your eyes, you shake out of her hold and take the lead in heading inside the building that housed your escort agency. To your surprise, the usually empty lobby is filled with boxes and lines of people filing in and out.

“What’s going on?” comes the curious question from behind you. “Looks like a shitstorm in here.”

“I don’t know,” you whisper, not knowing where to look at the elevator doors that continue to open and close with movers coming down with furniture and other fixtures to move out. “It seems like the entire place is shutting down.”

“Does that mean the agency is also…”

The two of you exchange a glance and make way towards the elevators, squeezing through the movers to find an elevator heading up rather than down. Once the doors open at the fifth floor, you follow her out and don't know what to make of the now vacant space that used to be the escort agency.

“What on Earth…”

Stripped bare of furniture and other knickknacks such as the familiar plants and backboard listing each escort’s daily scheduled “meetings”, the place reminds you of a freshly renovated office space ready to be leased out for a new term.

“Are we jobless?���

You don’t know how to answer the question, still processing the sight of the vacant agency when low murmuring catches your attention. From down the hallway, you spot none other than Jeonghan and the conniving witch who had conned you into signing the escort contract in the first place walking your direction. Hana puts up her middle finger on sight, but lowers her hand when you usher for her to step out before things get ugly.

“Aren’t you meeting with that one guy today? What’s his name, again, Jun?”

“I can just cancel. He’s kind of too quiet for my taste.”

“It’s not right to bail when he already paid upfront,” you convince her, “I’ll ask Jeonghan what’s going on and update you in the evening.”

“But—”

“I know you’ve been eyeing one of my Celine bags; have this Jun take you on a shopping spree to get you one.”

Already knowing she’s sold on the idea of using her date as today’s ATM machine, you shoo her away and watch from behind a corner once Jeonghan and your “former boss” stop by the front entrance. Picking up hints of an alleged “takeover” and “waste of money”, you hold your tongue until Jeonghan is alone, debating whether to reveal yourself from your hiding place when he places a hand over his mouth and coughs knowingly.

“I saw you from a mile away, sweetheart.”

You stand from your crouched position, wincing at the slight numbness in your legs.

“What’s going on? It’s completely empty here.”

He smiles, tilting his head back at the sight of the empty space.

“I bought the place!”

“You what?”

“Technically, my name was used to buy out the agency,” Jeonghan clarifies, chuckling at the absurdity of cleaning out an entire establishment with his money. “It was a completely one-sided proposal but I can’t believe it still went through.”

“Who asked you to buy out this place?” You try your best to not cry but the water in your eyes is already pooling along the corners. “I… We… How am I supposed to pay for my living expenses if I’m suddenly out of a job?”

“Sweetheart, it’s not a bad thing—”

“What would you know?” you yell, fed up with the whims of the wealthy. “You don’t know what it’s like to live paycheck by paycheck! You and your friends are silver spoons from the very moment you were born! I am sick and tired of being toyed with like—”

Jeonghan reaches a hand into his blazer and thrusts a business card in front of your face, successfully shutting you up when it drops onto your outstretched hands.

“Here’s the contact for the new owner of the building. Go talk to him if you need someone to yell at because that person is not going to be me.”

—

“Please wait here. Mister Choi will meet with you shortly.”

You nod awkwardly, thanking the receptionist after she sets down the requested cup of coffee. Leaving the coffee untouched, you close your eyes, praying your guess on the identity of this Mister Choi will be proven false when you hear the approaching footsteps. Not daring to look up, you open your eyes and grab the coffee mug, nearly staining your white dress with splashes of mocha from the quick swipe of your arm.

“I can have someone bring in a new dress if you need it.”

“Why did you do that?”

A scraping sound against the tiled floor, and you manage to lift your head up at the figure that takes the empty seat before you.

“Do what?” Seungcheol asks innocently.

It’s irritating, the subtle smirk on his face. The corners of your mouth twitch and he notices, leaning forward with his hands clasped together.

“You know what you did,” you grumble, refusing to entertain his antics. “Mister ‘I just bought out your agency because I have the money to’.”

“For starters,” he begins, knocking a hand on the table. The silver ring sitting on his pinky catches a glimmer from the faint sunlight, eliciting the memories of drinking tequila with him at the bar. “I didn’t buy out the building entirely for you. It was a business decision agreed by my board of directors to expand the hotel chain.

“Secondly, the proposed amount for this building and clearing out its tenants has no relation to you when Jeonghan was willing to pay half as a personal favor.

“And most importantly,” Seungcheol murmurs, voice dropping to almost a whisper. “I couldn’t bear the thought of you seeing other men just to make ends meet, so I did what I had to.”

You sit speechless, not knowing what to say as he gets up, eyes downcast.

“Even if you don’t choose me, I still want you to be happy. Of course, after I calculate the exact amount of compen—”

His eyes widen at the sudden tug on his sleeve, and you get up from your seat, snaking your arms around him before he can slip away.

“Why do you do the things that you do for me?”

He chuckles, turning around with a gaze full of love and adoration. Paired with the hints of the dimples in his grin, you finally realize he’d given his heart to you long before he even knew he had already done so.

“Because I love you and want you to be able to do the things you want to do. You mentioned you initially wanted to be a model, so I’m planning on turning this building into a modeling agency for you to pursue that dream.”

“Choi Seungcheol, you—”

He shakes his head, pleased that you hadn’t reprimanded him. “My board approved the acquisition, but ultimately I make the final call on how to repurpose the building.”

“I hate this,” you mutter, “I hate you for doing all this for someone like me.”

“You hate me?” he echoes. “Should I make a call to resell the building, then?”

Unsure if he’s joking or serious, you hit him lightly and he takes it with a warm laugh, a sound that tugs fondly at your heartstrings.

“I love you.”

—

“So when’s the wedding?”

You nearly choke on your drink and your best friend/roommate snorts, not understanding your reaction to her question.

“You and Choi Seungcheol have been dating for almost a whole year now. Men like him are bound to have butterflies fluttering around trying to get some of that good stuff.”

So much has happened since the events prior, from the initial meeting over a soiled pair of heels to avoiding him like the plague when you found out he loved you and even bought out your contract from the escort agency for you to be free from their shackles. Not one to take anything for granted, you made it clear to him from the beginning that it was never about the money, but he liked to think of it as an additional way for him to show how much he loved and wanted to take care of you in the blossoming relationship.

“You really should put a ring on it so people know he’s yours.”

“Hana, don’t you think it should be the other way around?” you refute, scowling at her assumption at marriage being a surefire happening. “I mean, Jeonghan still claims I have every right to choose someone else until I’m officially not single anymore.”

“Please, your Seungcheol will be out for blood if Jeonghan tries anything funny.”

You snuff out the cough growing in your throat, fully aware of Seungcheol’s slight possessive streak.

“Yeah, I suppose.”

The gloating look on her face says it all, but you take a pause on forming a rebuttal when you feel the vibration of your phone against the nightstand. Sensing you wanted privacy, she closes the bedroom door behind her when she exits and you pick up to a breathless sounding Seungcheol on the other line.

“Are you running?”

“C-Can you meet me now?” he pants, sharp intakes of breath in between each word. “I… I got something… something important to give you.”

“Where?”

“I’m actually—”

The line cuts off before he finishes his sentence.

“Seungcheol?”

No response, and you rush out of your apartment, frantically pushing the button on the elevator that eventually takes you all the way down to the main lobby. He never broke off midway through a phone call, what if—

“Hey.”

You bite back a retort, balling your hands into fists and run at full speed, punching Seungcheol square on his chest when you spot him standing by the bus stop at the corner of the block from your apartment building.

“You idiot! I thought something happened to you over the phone!”

He frowns, not understanding your panic until he offers the cracked phone in his hand towards you.

“I dropped my phone mid-conversation on the ground and the screen cracked. Is this what you’re referring to?”

“Unbelievable.” You pull away, but he grabs your hand just as you fall out of reach.

“Cute,” he smiles, his other hand taking out a small box from the pocket of his white jacket. “Here’s a gift for being so worried about me.”

“You called me out just to give me a gift?”

The raised eyebrow does little to erase the growing pout on his face, and you roll your eyes before taking his gift, revealing a stunning flower-shaped diamond ring sitting within the cushioned jewelry box.

“W-What is this?”

“I’m sorry for not being more formal,” he apologizes, “I had my driver bring me directly to the jeweler when they called and said the ring I wanted was ready for pickup.” Gesturing to his casual white zip-up jacket, blue tee, and matching white pants that completed his rushed morning look, Seungcheol smiles awkwardly and gets down on one knee, catching you completely by surprise.

“I don’t look like a man about to propose, but I really hope you’ll say yes?”

“Choi Seungcheol, this is the most comfortable outfit I’ve seen you in since we started dating,” you laugh, easing the ring out of its box and placing it onto your finger. “I’m not going to say no when you came to me dressed down like this.”

The beaming grin on his face says it all, and you give him a peck on the cheek once he stands up.

“I’ll need to check with my assistant, but if it works for you, we can hold the wedding sometime in… September? Of course, feel free to tell me what ideas you have and I can make it happen. We can book an entire—”

You put a finger over his mouth to stop him from rambling, excitement practically dancing from every inch of his being at the thought of planning the perfect wedding.

“I’m perfectly happy with a simple vacation wedding plus honeymoon.”

“That’s it?” The disappointment in his voice couldn’t be more clear. “Just a vacation?”

“Mhm. Just a simple around-the-world trip will do.

“In fact, why don’t we go right now?”

“Now?” he echoes, “I still haven’t found contractors to revamp the building I bought for you.”

“That can wait,” you groan, checking the sign by the bus stop that announced three minutes before the next bus arrives. “I’m not in a rush to start work when I get to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“Yes, but—”

“No buts!” The bus rolls closer and closer until it is only one red light away. “You can make your calls to arrange for passports and everything else on the way to the airport, but let’s go before we miss this bus!”

Waving down the bus driver with a furious wave, you take note of the secure fingers wrapped around your right hand. A comforting yet trusting touch, you know Seungcheol is equally on board with the idea despite the initial hesitation at the abrupt proposition to leave everything behind in his hectic corporate world. Rash and borderline irresponsible when he oversees so much in his business on the daily and has an entire pyramid of people dependent on him to make executive decisions, there’s little to change his mind when he’s finally able to go along with what he would like to do for once in his life.

“You know I’ll go wherever you go.”

#seventeen scenarios #seungcheol scenarios #svt #scoups #svt scenarios #seventeen fanfic #scoups fanfic #i have forgotten how to tag this shall suffice for now

[jupitercomet]

Douche Bag Jar Deposit: $5

summary - As the guys figure out how to get Natasha to like them, Jake is forced to confront what it means to be a roommate and the fact that Bradley might have better muscles than him.

warnings - New Girl au, fluff, angst, slowburn, language (like... a lot), Jake being a douche bag, my blatant misunderstanding of advertising, mentions of drinking, insecurities, mentions of having sex, provocative dancing, brief mention of potentially getting alcohol poisoning, brief mention of potentially throwing up, I added outfit links but you can imagine whatever you would like

this series is 18+, minors please do not interact

word count - 6.0k

the douche bag jar masterlist

“Peach, I said I was sorry!”

“I cannot believe you, Jake,” you pointed at him accusingly. “I thought you actually needed help.”

Jake followed after you as you made your way through the living room and into the kitchen. “I did need help, she was gonna make breakfast.”

You looked at him incredulously. “You tricked me into scaring your hook up away because she was offering to make you breakfast?”

“Okay, that sounded bad,” Jake winced, attempting to backtrack. “I just meant that, when you let a girl stay for longer than an hour, they start thinking things are serious.”

You scoffed, shutting the door of the fridge with a little more force than necessary. “Well, if you feel that strongly about it, you can make your own breakfast.”

With a frustrated huff, you divided the four plates of pancakes you’d made early that morning into three. Jake’s eyes followed you confusedly as you set them on the island with a jug of maple syrup and some silverware. The fourth, now empty, plate, you set in front of Jake, along with a fork that you dropped onto it with a loud clatter.

“Bon appetit.” 

“Oh sweet! Pancakes,” Bradley grinned widely, sitting next to Jake as Mickey also took a seat, both digging into the fluffy flat cakes with little regard for Jake’s own plate. “Shit, these are good.”

You smiled as Mickey nodded in agreement, unable to verbalize his own praise on account of the fact he was actively shoveling pancakes into his mouth. “Thank you.”

“Hey, wait,” Jake snapped out of his stupor when you started sitting down to eat. “You’re serious? You really aren’t gonna give me any?”

You gestured to the fridge, before taking a bite. “Figure it out, Seresin.”

Bradley let out a quiet ooh, snickering to Mickey. “Looks like someone’s in the dog house.”

“I am not in the dog house,” Jake refuted, stilling suddenly and then looking at you. “Right?”

You took another bite of your pancake.

“Peach,” he whined. “I’ll never do it again, I swear!”

“There’s yogurt in the fridge.”

Jake sighed heavily, glaring at Bradley and Mickey’s chuckling and trudged to the refrigerator.

“What’d he do to piss you off so much?” Mickey asked as Jake tried to pretend that choosing between blueberry and strawberry yogurt would result in one of them tasting even remotely as good as your pancakes.

“He texted me that he needed help,” he could feel you glaring at his back. “And so I thought it was an emergency and came into his room all freaked out. The girl he had sleeping over thought I was his girlfriend.”

Mickey let out a low whistle. “Damn.”

“I didn’t realize it would upset you that much!” Jake argued, coming back to the kitchen island with his cup of strawberry yogurt.

“That sucks for you, I guess,” Bradley grinned at him with a mouthful of pancake. “Enjoy your yogurt though.”

Jake narrowed his eyes at the brunet, half tempted to chuck a spoonful of strawberry yogurt at his stupid mustache, but restrained himself and instead shoved the pink dairy product into his mouth with a grumble. The conversation moved away from his mistake of the morning as he sulked into his first and second yogurt cup  — blueberry this time, for variety. 

He watched you glance at your phone — your read receipts appearing on his own screen — before turning it off and setting it face down on the granite table top.

It buzzed again.

Your eyes widened and you almost spit out your orange juice as your head whipped around to face him. Jake smirked around a spoonful of yogurt, only growing more smug when you collected yourself and started typing a message back.

Getting up suddenly and dropping your dishes into the sink, you patted Jake on the shoulder, his eyes still glued to his phone, spoon hanging out of his mouth.

“What’s that, Jake? You want to do the dishes?” You cocked your head with a pleased smile at his stunned reaction, before heading back to your room. “Well, if you insist.”

Jake stared at his messages again, your text mocking him as it ingrained itself into his retinas. Much like the other ten times he’d unlocked his phone to look at it, the words hadn’t changed. Why was it pissing him off so much? Sure, the idea of picturing Bradley — who had once made it to the semifinals of a hacky sack competition when they were in college — as anything remotely close to sexy made him actually nauseous, but it was more than just Bradley’s entire lack of sex appeal. 

(Bradley had ended up losing that competition due to a poorly timed kick that resulted in the ball making direct contact with Jake’s dick — one of the fraternities dubbed the two Bean Bag and Bitchboy and effectively ruined their sophomore year)

No, it was the thought of you finding Bradley sexy. Which you definitely didn’t — you were just trying to mess with him. There was no way. If there was one thing Jake prided himself on, it was being the hottest guy in the loft. And he didn’t need you to prove that, you obviously found him the most attractive.

Jake laughed at himself, turning back to his work computer. Why was he still even thinking about this? It was a joke. You were joking. You were not attracted to Bradley.

Flipping his phone over so as to not be distracted again — which was possible because his phone case didn’t look like it had been purchased at a Claire’s — he opened the newest email waiting in his inbox. Biting at his thumb nail absentmindedly, Jake scrolled through the various mock ups for a new marinara sauce label his team was working on. Most were fine — he scoffed at one that had used Papyrus as it’s main font but he knew it was probably Lee’s idea, the man had no eye for visual design — and he clicked his mouse to reply.

When was the last time he’d seen Bradley shirtless?

Jake’s fingers stilled on his keyboard. For a man that was only active between the hours of 8:00 pm and 3:00 am, Bradley Bradshaw was strangely ripped. And Jake knew he wasn’t unattractive. Though he was reduced to utter shambles around your friend Natasha, Bradley was capable of flirting with women. In fact, there were plenty of women who preferred him to Jake — and obviously they were more attracted to the fact that he was a man with mommy and daddy issues who looked about a second from falling apart at any given moment, but they were still women.  

Were you also attracted to that?

Jake scrambled for his phone.

It took a minute — a very long minute in which Jake gnawed on his lip anxiously and panic added three containers of protein powder to his Amazon shopping cart — but suddenly Bradley’s contact photo was lighting up his screen.

Jake pressed the green button to accept the call. “Hel—”

“What?”

“Look,” Jake glanced above the wall of his cubicle, dropping his voice a decibel. “I just need you to send me a picture of them.”

“Why?”

“I gotta make sure they’re worse than mine!”

Bradley scoffed over the line. “I’m not sending you a photo of my abs, Hangman.”

“Oh, good,” Jake sighed in relief, deleting the vanilla protein powder from his cart. “They are worse than mine.”

“What? No they aren’t!” Bradley protested. “My abs are— Actually no, I’m not defending my muscles to you right now.” 

“Rooster, come on,” Jake pleaded into the receiver of his phone. “I think Peach might find your whole ‘broken man who doesn’t pay taxes’ thing hot. At least let me see my competition!”

Bradley snorted. “That’s what this is about? Dude, I knew you had a crush on her, but I didn’t think it was this bad.”

“I do not have a crush on her.” Someone walked past Jake’s cubicle and he ducked further into his desk chair.

“You just asked me to send you a picture of me shirtless because you’re worried she might like me more than you.”

“Yeah, but—” Jake scoffed, almost laughing at the fact that Bradley could even think that. “I don’t have a crush on her, I just refuse to live with a woman who has an ‘I can fix him’ complex.” 

“Then she’s definitely not gonna be attracted to you.”

“Fuck you, Rooster. I hope you choke on those stupid bar olives you always stuff your face with.”

“Hold on— What? You want me to eat the cherry pie you made and tell you embarrassing stories about Jake?” Bradley sounded distant until he lowered his head back to his phone and Jake could clearly hear the smirk in his voice. “I’m hanging up now.” 

“Wait! Rooster—”

The call disappeared from his phone and Jake let his head fall against his desk with a sigh.

Again you found yourself at brunch with a suspicious Natasha. This time was infinitely less terrifying though, the threat of spilling catastrophic life updates relieved from off your shoulders. In fact, compared to that, this news seemed like a cakewalk.

Taking a sip of your water — yes water, you were not making the mimosa mistake again — you sent her a small smile from around the straw.

She squinted at you. “A party?”

“Yeah, Bradley works at a bar and was able to convince his boss to let us have it for a night,” you brightened when Natasha seemed somewhat interested in hearing you out. “The guys thought it would be nice to throw, like, a ‘welcome to the loft’ party.”

“Are you sure it isn’t just an excuse for them to get wasted?”

You sighed, “Look, I know your first introduction was… weird.” Both you and Natasha knew that weird didn’t even begin to cover it. “But I promise they’re actually really nice guys. They’re the only reason I haven’t been locked in my room sobbing over Cooper.”

Natasha frowned at the reminder of your ex boyfriend. “God, I hate that asshole. I’ve always hated him too, you know. Never trusted that dickhead for a minute.”

“See? You do have something in common with them,” you pointed as if her words were a piece of evidence you could both see in front of you.

“Alright fine,” Natasha shook her head with a laugh. “I’ll give them another chance. Who’s all going to be at this party?”

“I don’t really know,” your smile faltered. “Jake was going to bring some of his work friends, but Mickey said there was ‘no way in frozen over hell’. Rhonda’s busy moving to a different school and Carmen’s still on vacation with her family. I kind of wanted it to be small anyway, though.”

Natasha gave you a sympathetic smile.

Having moved to California just to be with him, it meant that most of your friends were Cooper’s friends first. While you had no idea if they’d been informed of your break up — none of them had made any attempt to reach out to you — you knew that, either way, those relationships were most likely severed.

“Okay, just us then,” she agreed. “Do you want me to come over early and help you get ready?”

You cocked your head. “What do you mean?”

“It’s a party in your honor, dummy,” Natasha waved you off, knowing you well enough to know she would be in charge of styling you for the night. “Don’t worry, I already have a dress for you.”

Your phone buzzed in your pocket before you could even try to point out that you really didn’t think any of the guys would be dressing up.

You shook your head with a giggle.

“What?”

“Sorry,” you set your phone down. “Jake just texted me something funny.”

“Jake like your roommate Jake?”

When you nodded in confirmation, Natasha lunged for your phone. Her elbow knocked over your glass in her haste and you yelped, shooting a hand out to catch it before too much water could spill everywhere.

“Hey!”

“Oh my god,” she ignored you, scrolling through your text exchange with Jake. “You minx! You’re totally flirting with him.”

Your mouth gaped open. “What? No, I’m not!”

“His contact name is ‘Jakey Jakey Bout To Make A Big Mistakey’.” Natasha deadpanned with a raise of her brows.

“It’s a reference,” you protested. “To Not Another Teen Movie. And you totally know that, I’ve made you watch that movie like fifteen times.”

“What about his contact photo?”

You looked down at your plate sheepishly. “He stole my phone once and took a bunch of pictures on it, that’s all.”

“Right, you tell yourself that,” Natasha continued to read through your texts, not even wasting energy with entertaining your excuses. “He’s totally flirting though.”

You rolled your eyes, taking your phone back when she handed it to you. “He’s joking. Besides, he literally had a girl over, like, yesterday.”

Natasha wrinkled her nose. “Okay, I take it back. Maybe he just wants to sleep with you.”

“Which won’t happen,” you insisted, distracting yourself with how the spilled water had seeped into the napkin you had laid down to wipe it up. “We’re just friends.”

Bradley whistled to himself, bobbing his head to the tune he was blowing through his lips as he threw a towel over his shoulder. 

You’d informed him that Natasha would be coming over to the loft an hour or two before the party to help you get ready and Bradley planned on looking — and smelling — like he’d just come off of Bachelor in Paradise. He imagined they smelled nice on that show, they looked like they did. He may or may not have also stolen your coconut and pineapple body wash to achieve this desired effect.

Tossing the towel on one of the hook mounted on the wall, he reached behind the curtain for the shower handle blindly and turned on the water. Bradley pulled his hand out, wiping the residual water off onto his jeans, and looked at his reflection through the bathroom mirror as he waited for the shower to heat up.

Taking a deep breath, he nodded his head. He was going to talk to Natasha tonight, he was going to ask for her number, and he wasn’t going to act like a total idiot in the process. His reflection agreed and Bradley stripped himself of his jeans, left only in his shirt and boxers as steam started emanating from the shower. His fingers stilled on the hem of his shirt suddenly.

“Get out, Hangman.”

The shower curtain flung open and out stepped a very defeated, very wet Jake Seresin. He ran a hand over his head to smooth back the soaked strands of hair that had stuck to his face, dripping onto the bathroom floor as he glared at Bradley grumpily.

Bradley crossed his arms. “This is definitely a low for you.”

“If you were my friend, you’d show me your abs. Just put me out of my misery.”

“Dude,” Bradley scoffed. “Why do you even care so much?”

“I don’t know!” Jake groaned into his hands. “I don’t know, but it’s fucking annoying and I want it to stop.”

Bradley studied him for a minute. Ironically, though he was entirely soaked through, his shirt plastered to his chest and biceps, Bradley had never seen Jake look more like a fish out of water. He was almost impressed that, in the span of a few weeks, you’d managed to reduce the blond to a man desperate enough to hide in his friend’s shower. 

“Even if my abs are better than yours—” Bradley started finally. “Which they definitely are, that isn’t going to be a reason that she likes me more than you.”

Jake dropped his hands from his face, giving up on his attempt to smother the thoughts of you with his palms. “How would you know that?”

Bradley rolled his eyes. “Because, unlike you, I haven’t been trying to get into her pants every five seconds. You can’t honestly think a six pack is what’s going to win her over.”

Jake blinked.

“Three days ago, she came to me crying because she looked up how many kids get life-altering injuries from high school football and then asked me if I’d ever felt pressured to ‘follow the societal expectation of perpetuating and receiving violence for the sake of male validation’.” Bradley cocked his head as he recalled the memory. “Although, it was very eye opening. Made me think about a lot of things.”

Jake scoffed, looking almost defensive as his eyes darted around the room. “You say that— You say that as if I want to date her.”

“You literally said you were gonna marry her.”

“Yeah,” he laughed nervously. “In the very distant future, where we have an open relationship and I sleep with whoever I want and am also married to Scarlett Johansson.”

Bradley relaxed his posture. “Oh. Yeah, no, that makes sense—”

“Ow!” Jake rubbed the back of his head in surprise when Bradley suddenly dropped his demeanor and hit him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Bradley hit him again. “She’s actually a really good roommate. She fucking cooks us food, bro. If you’re doing all this shit to get your dick wet and she ends up moving out, I swear to god I will burn every designer suit in your fucking closet!” 

Jake shrieked at the threat. “You wouldn’t. Don’t you fucking touch them, Bradshaw!”

They both knew that Bradley very much would. He had a weird pyromaniac phase as a child that Mickey and Jake were still on the fence of if he’d actually grown out of — he always got unusually excited about birthday cakes. 

“Then knock it off.”

“Fine,” Jake sighed. “Fine, I’m sorry. You’re right. I don’t know why I’m even acting like this, Stacy’s been texting me all week to meet up anyway.”

Bradley nodded approvingly. He remembered Stacy, a veterinary student that Jake hooked up with occasionally, she’d helped him when his goldfish passed away once which Bradley thought had been nice of her. 

Mist began wetting his skin suddenly, reminding Bradley that the hot water was still running and that he still had to take a shower. Jake got the hint too, giving up on his attempt to see Bradley shirtless, and moved to leave the bathroom — and probably also text Stacy.

“Oh, and Hangman?”

The sopping wet man stopped at the door of the bathroom and turned back around. “Yeah?”

“Jar.”

Natasha let out an excited squeal as you timidly stepped out of your closet, clapping her hands to applaud herself.

“You look so good!”

You turned to the floor length mirror in the corner of your room, smoothing down the bottom of your dress and then promptly tugging up the top of it. “Are you sure?”

Natasha stood up from your bed, moving to stand behind you and look at your reflection. “Yes,” she confirmed. “You were the first person I thought of when I saw it.”

“It does make me feel like a fairy,” you admitted. “Ooh! Or like a milkmaid— Did I tell you I saw the cutest pictures of Highland cows the other day?”

Natasha snorted. “You sent me, like, twelve.”

You twirled back to your reflection, smile diminishing slightly as insecurities not even Highland cows could erase seeped back into your mind. “You’re sure it isn’t too much?”

“It’s perfect,” she reiterated, turning you back to her so she could fix some of your makeup. “You ready to give your roommates an aneurysm?”

You laughed as she led you both out of your room. Though Natasha had tried to convince you of the opposite, you were grateful you’d stuck with your flats. As a seasoned professional, Natasha often forgot the difficulties a novice like yourself faced in walking in heels. 

The guys got louder as you approached the living room, arguing over things like football stats and college stories you didn’t really understand. They’d finished getting ready almost an hour ago and you were surprised they hadn’t complained more about how long it was taking you and Natasha to change and do your hair and makeup. Though, you supposed the stiletto Natasha chucked in their direction the first time they tried was a pretty good deterrent. 

“Alright fellas,” Natasha presented you dramatically and their conversation came to a halt. “Behold.”

You stood in front of the silent group with an awkward wave, rocking on your feet as you anxiously waited for their reactions. The guys were dressed relatively simply, Mickey in a button up with a fun flamingo print on it, Bradley in a flannel, and Jake was wearing, what you recognized was, one of his “leisure” dress shirts. You had definitely overdressed.

Mickey broke the silence first. “You look great!”

“Yeah,” Bradley nodded in agreement as soon as Mickey spoke. “White is definitely your color.

You smiled at the two of them appreciatively. Jake still had yet to say anything, he had yet to blink actually, and you glanced at him nervously. It took several moments for him to realize that everyone was waiting for him, his eyes unable to leave your face.

“You look—” Jake cleared his throat suddenly, a slight pink tinting the tips of his ears. “You look really pretty, peach.”

You gleamed, catching Natasha’s eye as she sent you an “I told you so” look. “Thanks, guys! Sorry for making you wait so long.”

Mickey and Bradley waved your apology off, taking it as confirmation that you all were finally ready to go, and got up from the couch. You rummaged through your purse, one last time, to double check you had everything. When you looked up, Jake was still sitting on the couch.

“Jake?” You cocked your head at him questioningly. “Everything okay?”

“Huh?” Jake blinked a few times, standing up almost like he was coming out of a daze. “Yeah. No, yeah, everything’s fine.”

He looked like he wanted to say something more, suddenly taking in your appearance from his full height and with a look in his eye that seemed so entirely not Jake Seresin. Maybe he was tired? Work hadn’t really been slowing down for him and you suddenly felt bad that you might be forcing him to go out and drink on a night he’d rather be sleeping.

“You guys coming?”

Mickey’s voice grabbed your attention from the front door, stopping you from thinking any deeper about Jake’s strange behavior. You shouted back your confirmation, sending Jake an excited smile before scurrying away to catch up with Natasha.

“What are you doing here?” Bradley’s confused words summed up the thoughts of the entire group.

The five of you had been making your way to the bar Bradley worked at, the guys pleasantly surprising you with their ability to actually converse with Natasha on the way there. But, as Bradley delved into how he got his job and all the fun stories he had about being a bartender, the anecdotes died on his tongue when you all stopped in front of a bar that was definitely not closed.

“What the fuck?” Bradley muttered to himself, leaving you at a booth close to the entrance as he went to go talk to the people he knew who were working that night. 

You watched awkwardly as he spoke with one of his coworkers, confusion melting to resigned acceptance as he finished the conversation and the other man turned away.

“I’m really sorry,” Bradley came back to your table with guilty eyes. “I guess my boss forgot she agreed to let us use the bar tonight.”

You looked around the building thoughtfully. There really weren’t that many people — just a few patrons who looked to be regulars and a few college looking guys. There was still plenty of room for you all to have a fun night.

You smiled at Bradley good-naturedly. “It’s okay! We never needed the whole bar, anyway.”

At your words, everyone relaxed, wrapping their heads around the new course of action for the night. Bradley looked the most relieved, tapping his knuckles on the table, before pushing himself off of it.

“Drinks are on the house then.”

Mickey, Jake, and Natasha’s loud cheers washed out the sound of you questioning if he actually had the authority to do that.

“This place is nice,” Natasha looked around the bar with a smile. “I don’t think I’ve ever been here—”

“Tasha!”

You all stilled at the sudden high pitched exclamation of your best friend’s name. You could hardly share a questioning glance with her before a group of models were swarming your table. Jake and Mickey straightened instantly, smacking each other repeatedly on the arm as if they weren’t looking at — and thinking — the same thing.

“What are you guys doing here?” Natasha asked them.

One of the girls giggled. “You told us there was a party, so we just checked your location.”

“No,” Natasha corrected, looking at them incredulously. “I said I was going to a party and that’s why I couldn’t go out with you guys tonight. It wasn’t an invitation.” 

“Oh,” the girls deflated and you forced another smile onto your face, placing a hand on Natasha’s shoulder to get her attention.

“It’s fine. The more the merrier right?”

At your approval, the girls cheered — Mickey and Jake also joined in — and rushed off to get their own drinks that you hoped Bradley wouldn’t offer to also pay for. You’d seen those girls drink men out of their trust funds like it was a sport.

Natasha didn’t fully share in their excitement though, turning to you knowingly. “Are you sure?”

Your relationship with Natasha’s model friends was complicated to say the least. It wasn’t that you hated them or thought you were better than them, you all just had different interests. They didn’t fully understand your love of Marvel movies, you didn’t fully understand their love of clubbing — you tried to do both anyway and, honestly, when it was just them you usually had a fine time. 

But you’d learned — through various said clubbing extrusions — that your defining difference with the girls was that they had never met a man that wasn’t attracted to them. And as nice as they were to you, it was exhausting and embarrassing having to constantly explain to them that yes, that guy was insulting me and no, that other guy wasn’t inviting me to some exclusive after-party, he was inviting you.

It was one thing to be disrespected by men, it was another thing entirely to then have to then explain it to other women.

But, regardless of how much the prospect of models turned Bradley, Jake, and Mickey into juvenile teenagers, it would be different with them, you were sure of it. Because they were still your friends and, while maybe the night wouldn’t be as focused on that friendship as you would have hoped, you knew they still cared about your feelings in a way that random men who approached your group at the club usually didn’t. 

You squeezed Natasha’s hand in assurance. “I’m sure. It’ll be fun.”

Bradley appeared at your table suddenly, wide eyed and out of breath. “Um, guys. I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but there are a bunch of really hot girls—”

“Oh, we know,” Jake grinned, grabbing a toothpick from the table and letting it rest between his lips as he got up from the booth. “We know. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

He moved to make his way to the group of girls and Bradley followed after him, leaving the drinks he’d gotten for you on the table. Mickey looked at you and Natasha with sincere eyes.

“You two are the best thing that has ever happened to us.”

You watched him chase after the guys with a laugh, grabbing a shot from the table for you and Natasha.

“Cheers.”

Unsurprisingly, a group of attractive models looking for a good time was really good for business, the bar filling up more and more as the night progressed. Jake had found himself spending a fair amount of time with a drop dead redhead named Gretchen who really enjoyed margaritas and dancing on him in a way that would send his mother to her grave.

Not that Jake was complaining in the slightest, he didn’t see his momma anywhere.

You and Natasha had joined them in dancing and drinking for the beginning of the night, but Jake quickly learned the task it was to keep up with your model friends and made a mental note to ask Natasha how this was something she was able to do most nights. So far, Bradley had almost succumbed to dance floor heat stroke, Mickey was on the brink of alcohol poisoning and it was only 10:30.

“So you work in advertising?” Gretchen took a long sip of her margarita. “That’s cool.”

Jake grinned, playing with a strand of her hair. “Yeah, I guess. None of our models have been as pretty as you though.” And Jake meant it. That woman could probably get a lot of men interested in buying a jar of marinara sauce.

Gretchen giggled, letting her gaze moving to his lips teasingly. “Should I give you my number then? To help you out?”

“Oh, definitely, darlin’,” Jake dropped his head closer to her under the guise of hearing her over the noise of the bar, though they both knew they were hearing each other just fine.

She set down her margarita, allowing Jake’s hands to find a position on her hips, and looked up at him with lustful, green eyes that had him just about ready to ask if she wanted to get out of there — or do it in the bathroom, he wasn’t picky. Before he had the chance though, the song was changing and Gretchen let out a loud gasp.

“I love this song!” She grabbed his hand, tugging him back to the dance floor.

With enough margaritas in both their systems to probably strip a lime farm bare, Jake could only grin as Gretchen began grinding on him again, shooting a thumbs up back to Bradley who was in a similar situation at the other end of the room. A little ways away from him, Mickey — who was undoubtedly the lady killer of the night — was laughing and dancing with five other models, his flamingo button up now sloppily tied around his head.

Jake snorted. Mickey had always had the lowest alcohol tolerance of the three and he loved fruity drinks, which almost always resulted in him getting absolutely plastered anytime they went out partying. And it was clearly a trait that your friends were loving.

As if suddenly being reminded of you, he craned his eyes over the top of Gretchen’s head in search of your white dress. Gretchen’s own dress was a short, form fitting pink mini dress that Jake was very excited to see on his bedroom floor later. That had always been more his style anyway — short, tight, and easy to get off. Your dress was hardly any of those things, loose, long, and so fucking pretty, Jesus Christ.

Jake blinked, removing his hands from Gretchen’s waist to wipe at his eyes. Where the hell had that come from? This was why he didn’t drink margaritas. He shook his head, trying to re immerse himself in the way that Gretchen’s ass was brushing up against him. He just needed to get laid, that’s why he was thinking about you, and — as long as he didn’t fumble the bag with Gretchen — he would.

“Oh my god!” One of the girls dancing with Mickey thrusted her phone at the other models surrounding her. “Sean Kingston's throwing another pool party!”

The other girls cheered, speaking animatedly to each other about what Jake could only imagine — and he certainly would imagine — had happened at previous Sean Kingston pool parties. 

Gretchen pulled him down to her by his collar suddenly. “You wanna get out of here, hotshot?”

Jake groaned as her lips latched onto his neck. “Fuck yes.”

The other guys seemed to have the same idea — or offers — as him, joining Jake as the group of models congregated closer to the entrance of the bar and prepared to leave.

“Dude,” Bradley looked at the two of them in disbelief.

“Dude,” Mickey agreed.

Bradley hit his bicep excitedly. “One of those girls told me she once saw Dua Lipa at one of these things!”

Mickey laughed loudly, moving his shirt up from where it had fallen to his forehead. “And it’s fucking Sean Kingston!”

And that should have been enough for Jake. He was going to a Sean Kingston pool party — where he may or may not be introduced to Dua Lipa — with one of the sexiest women he’d ever seen, who also seemed equally as interested in him. He couldn’t have dreamed of a better situation if he tried.

And yet.

And yet, as he tried to find where Gretchen had run off to, his eyes landed on you. You were alone, still sitting at the booth, playing boredly with the paper covering of a straw. Jake wondered briefly where Natasha was for all of this, though that question was answered when he found Gretchen pulling on her excitedly, seemingly trying to convince her to come with them. His gaze was pulled back to you and he watched you prop your chin against your hand as you looked at the paper in your hand dejectedly. Even your dress seemed to have deflated.

Jake squeezed his eyes shut with a groan. “We can’t go.”

“What?” Bradley stopped celebrating and Mickey looked equally as confused. “What do you mean ‘we can’t go’?”

Jake pointed at you wordlessly. The two other guys followed his finger.

“We can’t go,” he repeated.

They all sighed, silently mourning their loss of models, pool parties, and probably copious amounts of sex. In his head, Jake presented a eulogy for his night with Gretchen — may he never listen to “Twerk” by City Girls the same way again. 

“We can’t go,” Mickey agreed, slumping into a chair in exhaustion as Bradley went to inform the girls of their heartbreaking decision.

Jake stopped at the bar, ordered a straight orange juice, and made his way to your booth.

“Hey, peach,” he set the drink in front of you as you looked up in surprise, scooching over so that he could collapse into the vinyl next to you. He had never danced that much in his life.

“Hey?” It sounded almost like a question, and you turned your head to look at the group of girls exiting the bar. “You’re not going with them?”

And though Jake knew that it was an opportunity that would most likely never be presented to him again and that he was giving it up to really do nothing but sit with you in a bar, he grinned with a shake of his head. “Nah, I’m not much of a pool party guy.”

You smiled at him, eyes full of a strange amount of admiration, like he’d just made the largest sacrifice for you. Though, if he thought about himself, he probably had. “Not even Sean Kingston’s? You seem like the kinda guy who got a lot of use out of ‘Beautiful Girls’.”

Jake shouldered you good-naturedly. “I was more of an ‘Eenie Meenie’ kind of guy. But if you wanted me to serenade you, peach, you just had to ask. Don’t gotta make up a bunch of girls to be jealous of.”

Natasha watched as you laughed at Jake, taking a sip of your orange juice and responding with something that had him letting out a dramatic gasp and prodding at your side until your giggles were only just quieter than the music playing in the bar.

“Why’d you guys stay?” She asked, not taking her eyes off of you to acknowledge that Bradley was now standing next to her.

“It was Jake,” Bradley shrugged. “Besides, no offense, but I think there was a good chance your friends would’ve made Mickey throw up in a bush if we went with them.”

Natasha turned to look at him with a laugh. “He does drink a lot of cocktails, doesn’t he?”

And because Bradley was still fairly drunk, he leaned down to loudly whisper, “It’s because he thinks if he can’t taste the alcohol, then he won’t get drunk.”

Natasha looked at Mickey, who had fallen asleep in his chair, then at Jake, who was still talking to you with a grin, and then back at Bradley. 

She smiled. “You know, you guys aren’t so bad.”

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[willalove75]

Can you write something where instead of Ted being the one who makes Rebecca's biscuits he actually gets them from a bakery that Reader owns? And Rebecca finds out and visits and reader and her hit it off but reader is unsure if Rebecca keeps popping by the bakery just because she likes the biscuits or cause she actually likes her? Please and thank you 🥹

I LOVE this!! I've been so excited to write this one! Thank you so much for the request!!! 💕

"Mornin' boss!" Ted says with too much energy for this early in the morning, as usual.

Rebecca looks up and her eyes light up as she sees the little pink box in his hands.

"Good morning coach Lasso." She says, reaching for the box.

She excitedly opens the box and pulls out a biscuit, bringing it to her lips and takes a bite from it. Her eyes roll as she tastes the sweetness of it, making her feel warm inside.

"Ted, please, tell me where you get these from." She begs as she chews the biscuit in her mouth.

"Sorry boss you know I can't do that." He says with a smile. "Oh! By the way, I thought up a great idea for a new outfit for our mascot," he says, digging through his pockets.

He pulls out a piece of paper "Aha!" and a receipt falls onto Rebecca's desk.

Ted and Rebecca watch it fall and they look up at each other, they both quickly go to snatch it and Rebecca grabs it first.

"I got it I got it!" She says.

Ted reaches over her desk to try and get it back and she stands up and moves away from her desk, turning around so he can't get the paper. She quickly unfolds it and reads the logo at the top.

"Norma's." She says out loud.

"Dang it!" Ted says, disappointed that she now knows his secret.

Rebecca turns around and sees Ted's very disappointed face, he looks up at her and she rolls her eyes.

"We can still do biscuits with the boss." She says, reluctantly.

Ted's face immediately perks up "that's what I'm talkin' about!" He exclaims.

On her lunch break, Rebecca slips out of the office and heads to the bakery. Following the directions on her phone, she stops at the address and looks around, thinking maybe she's in the wrong place. Finally, she spots it, a small, hole in the wall-type place, sandwiched between flats. A small bell chimes as she opens the door and walks in. She's immediately hit with the scent of freshly baked goods, cupcakes, cakes, biscuits, brownies, pastries, everything you can dream of is here in this small shop.

You're wiping down one of the counters in the back of the shop when you hear the bell chime, you put down your rag and walk out to the front. You spot a beautiful, tall, blond haired woman walking in, she looks lost, or at least unsure of where she is.

"May I help you?" You ask with a smile.

The woman looks up at you, not noticing you had walked out from the back.

Rebecca looks up when she hears your voice, she would be surprised to see such a pretty young woman step out from the back if she wasn’t so focused on trying to find the biscuits Ted brings her every morning.

"Uh, I think so, do you sell biscuits in a little pink box here?" She asks, looking around.

"Yes we do!" You say, grabbing one of your signature pink boxes from under the counter. "What kind of biscuits are you looking for?"

You watch as the woman scans the display counter, you can tell she's looking for something specific.

"Um, they're these little rectangle biscuits, they're absolutely delightful-" her eyes light up when she sees the shortbread biscuits. "THESE!" She shouts, you're a little taken back at how excited this woman is over biscuits, but you find it endearing.

"Oh yes, our signature, and my personal favorite." You say with a smile. "Gram's shortbread biscuits."

"Yes, I'll take um," she thinks for a moment. "Half a- oh fuck it, I'll take a dozen."

"Of course! If you want to hang out for another few minutes, I have a fresh batch that's about to come out of the oven."

The woman's eyes flicker with excitement.

"Yes, sure, absolutely."

"Would you like a coffee or cuppa while you wait?" You ask.

"Sure, I'll take a cuppa, thank you." She says, eyeing the other desserts.

She takes a seat at the counter as you prepare the tea.

Rebecca watches you, fascinated at how your muscle memory seems to take over as you make her tea, noticing that you’re barely looking at what you’re doing but are doing everything perfectly.

"Milk and sugar?" You ask.

"No thank you."

You bring the tea over to her and place the cup on its matching saucer.

"Oh how lovely," she says, admiring the cup. "This is beautiful."

"Thank you! They were my grandmothers, all of them were actually." As you gesture to the stacks of teacups and saucers behind the counter.

"Wow, she must have really loved tea." She says, looking at the stacks, bringing the cup to her lips.

"She actually hated it, but loved collecting teacups oddly enough." You say with a smile.

She takes a sip of the tea and you see her eyes roll.

"Fuck me that's delicious."

You feel a shiver down your spine, you were not expecting that kind of reaction from her.

"Where is this tea from?" She asks.

"I grow it!" You say.

"You what?"

"Yeah, I have a little greenhouse behind the shop where I grow my own tea leaves."

She looks at you like she's trying to figure out a puzzle. She looks around the shop and back at you.

"Are you the only one here?"

"Yup!"

"And you bake all of these?" She gestures to the desserts. "All by yourself?"

"Oh god no," you laugh. "I have workers who come here in the mornings to help me with all of these, but they are all either my own original recipes, or family recipes, most of them are my grandmothers recipes actually."

"Wow. So you're here all by yourself the rest of the day? When do you sleep?"

"Well I do have a small handful of employees, but for the most part I'm here from about 3 or 4 in the morning until about 5 or 6."

"Oh my god." She says, with a little bit of a horrified look on her face. "I sure hope your commute isn't long."

"It's about a thirty second commute, it's quite convenient actually."

She gives you a confused look and you laugh, you know she's definitely thinking that you sleep on the shop floor.

"I live in the flat above the shop." You say with a smile.

The timer goes off and you excuse yourself and head to the back. Usually you cut the biscuits up in the kitchen, but you decide to bring the whole tray out to the front and do it there. You're enjoying your conversation with this woman.

Rebecca watches you as you walk into the back, she looks around the shop and notices a picture of you as a child with an older woman, who she presumes is your grandmother. A smile crosses her face as she continues to look around, enamored by the coziness of the shop.

You walk out with the giant sheet and place it on the counter behind the register. You hear her let out a small moan and you pretend not to notice, although your cheeks turn a light shade of pink.

"Those smell incredible." She says.

You cut a few strips and pull out two fresh pieces and put each one on a plate. You put the plate in front of her and she looks up at you.

"This one's on the house. But it's still hot so be careful." You say, holding your plate in your hand with a smile.

She looks like a kid on Christmas day, a sharp contrast to what you would expect her to be like since she seems very put together and business-like. You take a bite of the biscuit, and you're immediately transported back to your grandmothers house, her house always smelled like freshly made breads or biscuits. Memories of her teaching you how to bake flood your mind, a smile comes across your face, relishing in your treasured memories.

You're brought back to the shop when you hear the woman moan accompanied by another "fuck me." You open your eyes and look over at her and can't help but let out a little laugh.

She looks back at you, a little embarrassed, but is enjoying the biscuit more than she is embarrassed.

"These are the best biscuits I've ever had in my life, and I thought that before I had one fresh out of the oven." She says.

"Well I'm very glad you like them!"

"Where did this recipe come from?"

"It was my grandmothers, well, I think it was her mothers recipe, but she made a few tweaks and perfected it in my opinion."

"Well, tell your grandmother that they're divine." She says.

You give the woman a small smile, trying to hide the sadness in your face, but she catches on anyway.

"Is your grandmother still with us?" She asks.

"Uh, no, actually, she passed away last year, right before I opened the shop."

"Oh, I'm sorry," she says, taking another small bite. "Was her name Norma?" She asks, looking at the sign with the shops name hanging on the wall.

"It was, she taught me everything I know about baking. Ever since I got the idea to open up my own shop I knew I wanted to name it after her."

"That's very sweet, you two must have been close."

"Very, she was my favorite person in the world." You turn and look at the small picture of the two of you hanging on the wall. "I miss her every day."

You make your way over to the counter and begin cutting up the sheet of biscuits.

"I was very close with my grandmother as well," she says, empathizing with you. "I was very young when she passed, she's been gone almost 30 years now, but I still have days where I miss her terribly."

"I think it would be much more difficult if I didn't have the shop, not only does it keep me busy, I'm also able to honor her memory every day by making her recipes and sharing them with everyone. It's something she always wanted to do but never got the opportunity to."

You finishing packing her order and close the box, placing a sticker with the logo to seal it. You set the box in front of the woman with a smile. She looks down and sees the logo.

"Hm." She says.

"Something wrong?"

"Oh, no, one of my, uh," she pauses for a moment "employees brings me these every morning but I've never seen this sticker on the boxes he brings me."

A smile crosses your face.

"Are you talking about coach Lasso?"

She lets out a sigh.

"Yep, that's the one."

"Ah, so you must be Rebecca."

She looks up at you and lets out another sigh.

"That would be me. I'm guessing he's talked about"

"Biscuits with the boss."

You say in unison.

She nods her head and you laugh.

"Ted is very sweet, he actually always requests for me to not put the label on the box, he wanted to keep this place a secret. It must be fun having him around all the time." You say.

"Oh it sure is something alright." She says, rolling her eyes when she hears you mention that he asks for you to not put the sticker on the box.

You ring her up and give her the total. She hands you money and you give her the change. She pulls out another bill, worth at least what she paid for the biscuits, and puts it in the tip jar.

"Oh, wow, thank you so much!" You say, surprised but grateful.

"Thank you very much." She says with a kind smile.

“I hope you enjoy your biscuits!”

She gives you a wave as she leaves and you return to cutting up the rest of the tray. An excitement in your belly rises, and you’re not sure if it’s because you’ve probably made a new customer or because she was incredibly beautiful, or both.

Rebecca leaves the bakery, missing the smell of freshly baked good as it dissipates the further away from the shop she gets. Excited about the big box of biscuits she acquired, she also thinks about you, how you were incredibly kind and very cute. This is definitely a place she is going to frequent often.

A few days go by and you’re in the shop again putting a few cakes into the oven after the early morning rush. There’s a light chatter in the shop, filled with a few regulars enjoying their morning coffees and teas. You hear the bell chime again and head to the front. You’re a little surprised, but also very happy to see the beautiful blond woman in your shop once again.

“Good morning Rebecca!” You say with a smile.

“Good morning, uh, oh my goodness, I don't think I ever asked you for your name.” she says a little embarrassed.

"Oh it's fine, it's more important for me to know my customers names than it is for them to know mine. But my name is y/n."

She gives a little smile of relief.

"Well then, good morning y/n."

“How can I help you? More biscuits?” You say with a smile.

“Just one, and a tea please." She says returning your smile.

"Of course! Did you want that to say or to go?"

"To stay."

She takes a seat at the counter and you make her tea and bring over a biscuit on a plate.

"Excellent, thank you." She says.

"So is Coach Lasso no longer bringing you biscuits every day?" You ask as you wipe down the counter.

"Oh no he is, speaking of, please don't tell him I was here. I'll never hear the end of it if he finds out I've been coming here."

"Your secret is safe with me." You say.

At first glance, Rebecca doesn't seem like a very approachable person, she's always dressed sharply, her hair always either perfectly curled or pulled back, she carries herself in a very professional way. Once you started talking to her you realized that yes, she is those things, but she's also very personable, she's kind and funny. Her appearances in the shop became more frequent, first only coming in every few days, then eventually coming in most mornings, and after a few months, she was coming in every morning to sit at the counter, have her biscuit and tea and chat with you.

You had other regulars that came in most days if not every day, but Rebecca was different, she seemed genuinely interested in talking to you, there are some days you wondered if she was coming in for the tea and biscuits or if she was coming in just to talk to you. Either way, you thoroughly enjoyed her company and looked forward to seeing her every morning.

Usually very punctual, one morning Rebecca doesn't show up and it strikes you as odd, what struck you more was that you found yourself concerned. Usually she would mention that she had a meeting or an away game when she knew she wasn't going to be able to stop by, not showing up with no warning was unusual for her.

Also very punctual, showing up usually about half an hour after Rebecca leaves, Coach Lasso enters the bakery.

"Good mornin y/n!"

"Good morning Coach! How are we this morning?" You really want to ask about Rebecca, but you restrain yourself, you did promise her after all that you wouldn't tell Ted that she was coming in every morning.

"Not too shabby, although I am gonna need something extra special for my 'Biscuits with the Boss' today."

"Oh, why did something happen?" You try to not sound too concerned but you're sure Ted catches on anyway.

"Rebecca's father passed away yesterday so we're all goin' to the funeral tomorrow."

The news hits you harder than you expect, she never spoke about her parents, but losing a parent must be incredibly difficult and you've grown to care for her. You hope she's okay.

"Oh no, that's horrible. You know what, I'll do ya one better, I'll send you with your usual plus a little extra, and I'll send some pastries and of course, the biscuits to her house as a little pick me up."

"This is why you're the best y/n!" Ted says.

You package up his usual order of biscuits plus a few extra ones you think she would like and you prep a tray of fresh biscuits and pastries. After getting the address from Ted, you have one of your drivers deliver them to her home.

A few more days go by and you don't see Rebecca, you can't deny your disappointment, but you also understand why she hasn't been able to show up lately.

Your last employee goes home for the day and you begin to clean up and close shop. As you're finishing wrapping up the leftover cakes and pastries from the day you hear a tap on the door, you look over and see Rebecca, she gives you a little wave. A smile you're unable to hide crosses your face and you let her in.

Rebecca was a little nervous showing up to the shop so late, she was hoping you were still there by the time she got there. She was relieved when she saw you behind the counter, a bundle of nerves formed in her belly as she tapped on the door. There was a rush of relief when she saw your face light up when you saw her, she can't help but think how cute and beautiful you are, inside and out. It really touched her when she got the delivery, it made her question how much she really likes you, and how much you really like her.

It's a little strange for you to see Rebecca in jeans and a t-shirt, you've only ever seen her in her work clothes, but there's something about her dressed down that makes her look maybe even more attractive than she usually is.

"Hi! How are you? I'm so sorry to hear about your dad." You say.

"Oh thank you, I'm doing well actually. I just got in from my mums but I wanted to drop by and thank you for the tray, it was so kind of you."

"Oh of course, as soon as I heard what happened from Ted I knew that I had to do something, you're one of my best, and favorite customers. I couldn't not do anything."

Much to your surprise, she wraps her arms around you and gives you a hug. You wrap your arms around her and hug her back, you're not sure if it's something she needs or is doing as a thank you, but either way you're not in opposition.

The smell of biscuits and sweetness surrounds Rebecca when she hugs you, she isn't sure if the shampoo you use smells like vanilla or if it's just because you were in the bakery all day, either way it relaxes her. You two pull away and she looks at you with a smile on her face.

"Well, I don't want to keep you, I just wanted to stop by and say thank you."

"Oh you're not keeping me from anything, I'm just about done here anyway." You look at her for a second, you don't want her to leave. "Do you want to come up for a drink?"

She stands there for a second, looking a little shocked, but smiles.

"I would love to."

You shut off the lights to the shop and the two of you walk out. You lock the door to the bakery and unlock the door next to it, leading into your flat. You walk up the stairs, Rebecca following behind you and you walk into your living room. Flicking the switch on, the room illuminates, lighting up the photos and small pieces of art on your walls.

"Welcome! Please, make yourself at home. Do you want wine, mixed drink, anything?"

Rebecca looks around intrigued at the room she's standing in.

"Uh, I'll take a wine, red please."

"Coming right up!"

You walk into the kitchen and grab wine glasses and the bottle. Rebecca walks around the room looking at the photos scattered across the walls. Photos of you and your grandma, your family and friends, places you've visited. You walk into the living room and pause, watching her as she looks around. You can't help but be enamored at how she's looking at everything, almost like she's looking at art in a museum, carefully studying the photos on the walls and knickknacks on the shelves.

Rebecca can't help but smile as she sees pictures of you and your friends and family, just from the pictures alone she can tell how close everyone is. It's something she envies, but seeing the photos hanging on your walls makes her happy. She's able to see different sides to you she's never experienced, that you can be silly, funny, it's like she's secretly figuring out the little things that make you, you.

You put the glasses on the coffee table and fill each glass, the two of you take a seat on the couch and take sips of your wine.

"Your home is beautiful." She says, looking around some more.

"Thank you, it's not much, but I love it." You sit back and look around, proud of the home you've made for yourself.

"It's so cozy here." She says with a smile.

"Aw, thanks."

You two make small talk for a few minutes before you feel your stomach growl. You both giggle at the sound as you put your hand over your belly.

"I'm starving, are you hungry at all?"

She thinks for a second. "Yeah, I could eat."

"Great."

"Do you want me to order something?" She asks.

"No you don't have to, I'll just whip something up, if that's cool with you?"

She looks bot surprised and impressed.

"Yeah that's totally fine with me."

"Great, come on!"

You lead her into the kitchen and she takes a seat at the island, you begin to pull things out of your refrigerator.

"Is there anything you don't like or are allergic to?" You ask, combing through the fridge.

"Nope." She says.

"Awesome! Is chicken good?"

"Yeah, sounds great."

You start slicing the chicken breasts and seasoning them, you prep a pan on the stove for the chicken and prep another pan for vegetables on another element.

"Wow, so you can bake and cook?" Rebecca asks as she watches you wide-eyed.

"Yup! My grandma taught me to bake, my dad taught me how to cook. Do you cook or bake or anything?"

"Oh god no, I can barely boil a pot of water."

"Do you wanna learn?" You ask as you look over at her.

She thinks for a second and then sighs "sure, why not."

She walks over to you and you give her instructions on what do to next. She starts cutting the vegetables and the knife slides a little.

"Can I show you a trick?" You ask.

"Yea absolutely."

You gently adjust her grip on the knife. You feel sparks when your hand comes into contact with hers. Knots begin to form in your belly and you do your best to ignore them. You also show her how to curl her fingers on the vegetables so she doesn't cut herself. You hold her hands and show her how to make slices without raising the tip of the knife off of the cutting board. There's something so comforting about having your arms around her as you show her what to do. You let her take over and you watch her, it hits you that you have such a beautiful person in your kitchen and you're showing her how to cook. You get lost looking at her and you nearly forget about the chicken in the pan. You put more pieces in the pan as Rebecca finishes cutting the vegetables, you saute the vegetables as the rest of the chicken finishes cooking. Finally you set out two plates and put dinner on the table.

"This smells amazing." She says, her mouth nearly watering.

"I hope it tastes as good as it smells." You say with a laugh.

She playfully rolls her eyes at you and takes a bite.

"Fuck me," her words send chills down your spine. "This is amazing."

"I'm glad you like it!" You say as you take a bite. "Not too bad." You're pretty pleased with yourself.

You pour more wine into your glasses and continue eating. You two chat about your favorite foods, foods you can't stand, and what foods you could eat every day without getting sick of.

You two finish up eating and you put the two plates into the sink.

"Do you want me to help clean up?" She asks.

"Oh god no, that's a tomorrow problem." You say with a laugh.

You grab the bottle of wine and head back into the living room, Rebecca takes a seat on the couch next to you, both of you stuffed and satisfied from dinner.

You don't know how you got on the subject, but Rebecca talks about Rupert and his new baby, how the funeral went and goes into a little about her divorce.

"No offence, but he sounds like such a dick." You say laughing, your cheeks flush from the wine.

"He really is." She says laughing.

"You know, you're not what I expected." You say.

She looks over at you.

"What does that mean?"

"I mean, when you first walked into my shop, you looked so, professional, I had a feeling there was more to you when you moaned at the biscuits" you laugh as you tease her "but you don't look like that kind of person. Does that make sense?"

"I guess."

"But I'm very happy that you're not what I expected, you're much more fun. I really like that you like me and the shop so much you're willing to come every morning. It means a lot. Plus, I like hanging out with you."

You look over at her and you feel your cheeks get red and you look down into you glass.

"I was worried when you didn't show up the other day, I thought either something happened or that I did something wrong. But then Ted told me what happened and my heart broke for you. I'm so sorry Rebecca."

You look up at her and she looks at you, your eyes meeting for a moment before she looks away.

"Thank you. My dad and I didn't have the best relationship, so it was strange, but my mum and I got the chance to get close again, so it was kind of nice actually."

She looks back up at you and you meet her gaze.

"Well I'm glad it ended up being a somewhat positive experience then." You say with a smile.

The knots in Rebecca's stomach tighten as your eyes meet. You slump into the couch and rest your head on her shoulder, you feel her relax as you lean into her, your body relaxes as well.

After a minute of you two sitting in silence, you look up at her and your eyes meet once more. Her eyes sparkle as they look into yours, the knots in her belly turn into butterflies as a flutter erupts in your chest. She slowly leans down and you meet her halfway and your lips meet for the first time. You feel a rush of energy in your heart while a sense of calm washes over your body at the same time. You reach up and place a hand on her cheek, stroking her soft, smooth skin with your thumb. You sit up more and she holds onto your waist, your other hand resting on her chest. You gently suck her bottom lip when it slips between yours and she lets out a small moan, you smile into the kiss as your tongue slides into her mouth. Your tongues dance around each other, exploring each others mouths. The kiss slows and you finally part.

You look into her emerald eyes and can't help but let out a small giggle.

"What?" She asks, her lips curling into a smile.

"Nothing, I just never thought in a million years this would have happened."

She smiles and pulls you in, placing a kiss on your head.

"Well, you do know I have a sweet tooth."

#rebecca welton x reader #hannah waddingham #rebecca welton #rebecca welton fanfic #ted lasso #ted lasso fic #willalove75 #wlw fanfic

[itzsana-kiddingmenow]

Day 21: New Discovery

inspired by this art on pinterest!

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𝖑𝖊𝖊: Jisung

𝖑𝖊𝖗: Chan, Minho, and Jeongin

𝖙𝖜: my brainrot on the frickin shirt, the art isn’t mine

𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: @someone-who-loves-kpop-saranghae @dandyboyseungmo @leeknowstan33 @vale-143@wereallgonnadieonedaybutnottoday

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Jisung winked up at the crowd as they screamed for him. 

The outfit he was wearing today was sure to drive the STAYs absolutely mad, he knew.

The white button up would certainly be weird on its own, but paired with the pants and the bolera, the top looked great. 

The holes in the shirt showed off his upper waist and belly button, with two straps coming from the bottom. 

Jisung was just waiting for the internet to blow up. He loved the outfit, the members loved the outfit, and he was so ready. 

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After the concert was over, Hannie headed backstage to change, but caught the sight of 3 of his members staring at him. 

“Woah.” Minho said. 

Jisung looked all over himself. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. 

Jeongin walked up to him. “I knew your waist was small but hyung? It’s so cute-ahh” He commented with a poke to the older’s belly button. 

Hannie let out a loud squeak. The entire room fell silent. 

“No way.” Lee Know smirked evilly. 

“You’re ticklish?” Chris practically shrieked at the new discovery, immediately running over to the quokka and latching onto his sides. 

Jisung squealed before bursting into loud giggles, squirming and slapping at Chan’s wrists. 

When all three members surrounded the defenseless ace, he knew he was screwed. 

“C-Cmon! You know i’m ticklish!” Han whined as he tried to use his hands to cover up the holes.  

Minho immediately latched onto one, digging his fingers into the ace’s upper ribs. 

“AGGHAHAHA!” Jisung immediately raised his arm to slap the invading hand, but a quick poke to his armpit had his arm slamming down yet again. 

Jeongin immediately aimed for the other hole, drilling his finger in and relishing in the loud cackles the older produced. 

Hannie almost bent over completely, overwhelmed by the bare tickles to his waist. 

Chan poked a singular finger into his belly button. 

Jisung immediately slammed his arms into himself and screamed loudly, trying his hardest to catch one pair of hands.

“AGHANOHOHO! IHIHIT’S BAHAD IHIHIT’S BAHAHAHAD STOHOHOHOP!” 

When Minho and Jeongin involved another hand each, poking into his stomach near his sides, Jisung felt like he was actually going to ascend. 

“HEHEY! NO NOHOHOT THEHEHERE AHAHAHA!” He wrapped his arms around himself and sank to the ground, knees buckling. 

The scribbles to his bare, sensitive skin were unbelievably ticklish, and increasingly unbearable. 

“Ihihit’s tooho muHUHUHUCH! LEE MINHO!” Hannie screeched as Minho’s lips connected to his skin, blowing raspberry after raspberry onto the warmth. 

“AHAHAHA NAHHOHOHO IHIHAAAHHAH PLEHEHAA!” Jisung’s screaming was incoherent as he fell backwards into Channie’s lap, tears falling down his face as Lee Know’s lips only followed. 

When he felt nibbles teasingly tasering his sides, Jisung absolutely howled with laughter, slapping at the older’s head as he tried to stop the buzzing sensations.

“I CAHAHANT TAHAHAKE IHIHIT!”

Soon enough however, Hannie knew he couldn’t handle it anymore, and screeched one last time before falling into silent laughter. 

Minho let up, laughing at how hard Jisung panted. 

“Sorry Hannie. It was a discovery and we couldn’t miss a chance, plus you and your waist are so cute and prettyyyy!”

The ace could feel his face going bright red, and he coughed awkwardly as he stood up to leave. 

“You all are meanies-”  He commented before racing out of there, three boys right on his tail.

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i hope you enjoyed this fic! have a spooky october! ✨🎃

#kpop tickle #midzywannabeitzy #stray kids #skz tickle #skz #sana’s tickletober

[bogkeep]

sorry i'm still SSSS blogging today. i meant to draw but instead i reread adventure 2 and. hm

like, it starts out fun, you have characters interactions and dreamsharing and interesting locations and new outfits and hotakainen backstory!!!! that's the stuff i think fondly of when i think of adventure 2. it sets up for an emotional throughline for the hotakainens that would be so so tasty to follow and explore, especially considering what happened to tuuri in the last adventure!!!

but then... nah. when tuuribird shows up, something that should've had a BIG impact, especially on lalli - there's almost no reaction among any of the characters. it's just "oh okay." and like, i get that the whole deal with the finns is that they aren't very open about feelings but come on. come on!!!!!!

i think that is the point in the comic where things start to feel off for me. it SHOULD be exciting, you have connected all the characters and you're digging into the main plot and not just fighting small fry along the way, but........ ?????????

it's also around that time where minna starts working on the infamous bunny comic, and some of the author comments from that period of time made me wince. the whole ssss reading vibe gets Weird!! it's really hard for me to extract the experience of reading the Comic from the experience of witnessing its creator getting converted and baptized in frozen lakes and following a higher calling to create a comic whose message is frankly rather stupid!!! also i don't read the comment sections but clearly shit went down in some of them, maybe because minna said some awful stuff in her streams??? i don't know!!!!!! i don't really need to know!!!!

and then the comic just gets boring and drags on forever. look, the worldbuilding and the monsters are cool, and the art is always lovely, but the true joy of ssss for me has always been the characters. and then they don't really... do or say very much with each other for the rest of the story. like they're following the plot beats, but so much of the comic us just monster fights, beasts fighting each other, the plot HAPPENS but there's no emotion tied to it. the most egregious example is when lalli and onni have the spirits of tuuri and ensi with them, and they have a conversation - and we don't see ANY of that. it happens off screen. we get NOTHING. there's ZERO emotional reward. the characters are for all intents and purposes unchanged. there has been no arc or change in their dynamics. WHAT ARE WE DOING HERE!!!!!

it feels like the beats of the story were all planned out, but not fleshed out at all, and when minna got this far she no longer cared about these characters, or like telling this story served any purpose. the potential is there! it's easy to imagine another timeline where this story is rich in character interacton and growth. instead we get a hollow shallow shell of a comic. welp!

i so badly want to admire minna's decision to end the comic "properly", but i really feel like it might've been better to have just abandoned it when her priorities shifted. it's so sad to see the characters getting neglected like dolls in a dusty toybox. it really breaks my heart that she doesn't believe ssss has any value beyond "empty entertainment" when it meant so much to so many. SIGH

people who couldn't be bothered to finish reading adventure 2 are right actually. there's nothing there.

#spoilers under the cut for whatever its worth